The Awful Truth
by Mistress Scribbles
Summary: Part 11 of the New Adventures. The gang find themselves chasing an artefact which knows all their secrets before their enemies can get hold of it. But some truths could be even more explosive in friendly hands. Adult language, sexual refs and violenc
1. Chapter 1

THE AWFUL TRUTH

-x-

One

-x-

The White Palace was at peace. It was mid morning, but most of the inhabitants were still asleep. It had been a long night. The palace was slow to turn and had only just started heading back towards land. The suns beamed down on its ivory towards and courtyards, and the light sparkled on the gentle waves of the sea.

The light fell upon the less singed end of the stables, where a unicorn dreamed of a slender tree, dappled in a spring sunshine, sheltering a white egg. It had been an image recurring to her recently – at first she had been glad of it, since it had chased away the memories of blood and pain, and the sight of fire before her sleeping eyes, but still the tree made her feel uneasy. It felt somehow final, as though there were nothing beyond it, and the egg felt not so much as a beginning as an end.

The light fell upon a large bedroom above the main courtyard, where a couple held each other in their sleep. The man dreamed of flight, and of floating and being wrapped in a vanilla scented blanket. The woman dreamed of men fighting, and her screaming for them to stop.

The light fell upon another large and lavish room, where a young woman slept alone. She dreamed of past happiness, of feeling safe and protected and beloved, dreamed of a boy she used to know.

The light fell in narrow shafts into a half full dormitory – Spartan but comfortable nonetheless – upon a young man who also dreamed of the past, of walking along beaches and dancing in the starlight and a girl in the house across the street from his. The light didn't quite manage to fall on the other, larger young man, who dreamed of crying, the endless and insistent crying of a lost little child. In his dream, he called out to her through the darkness but couldn't find her. He tried asking her where she was, but all she could repeat, over and over again was 'my Daddy. Where's my Daddy? I want my Daddy!'

And then there was noise. Music. Slowly growing in volume, and unstopping and sad. It invaded the dreams of the sleepers and one by one the all awoke as the realisation hit them – the music wasn't of the Realm. It was music from their own world.

Hank and Bobby nearly ran straight into Sheila in a marble corridor.

'Do you hear that?' blurted all three in unison.

'It's coming from upstairs,' added Hank.

They sprinted up the stairs together, following the Ranger's ear, and slid to a stop outside a small door in an underused and unkempt hallway. Eric and Diana were already there, trying the handle. Diana had hastily thrown on her furs, forgetting her gold bands, although a single bead on a thin strip of red fabric hung around her throat. Eric had managed to get into his chainmail leggings, if nothing else. A large bandage covered most of his torso, however, from belt line up to just under his arms.

'Locked,' muttered the Acrobat. She cast a swift glance up to the others and added a low 'Hey, guys.'

'What is it?' Hank tried the handle himself, causing Diana to jerk her hand away defensively.

'A portal?' added Bobby, hopefully.

'Nah,' sighed Eric. 'Presto's in there.'

'Presto?' asked Sheila. 'How can you tell?'

Eric shrugged. 'Listen for yourself.'

Sheila put an ear to the door and listened. Just audible beneath the music was a familiar soft snuffling. She drew her ear away, resting her forehead on the door. 'He's crying in there.'

'But the music…' insisted Bobby.

'You guys know how powerful he is,' replied Eric. 'I guess he must just be making it, or channelling it, or… or something…'

Hank crossed his arms. 'Eric, are you telling me that Presto is channelling Radiohead?'

'No need to make it sound so stupid, Hank…' began the Cavalier.

'I mean,' added Hank, 'they're not even dead…'

Eric opened his mouth briefly to make a sarcastic comeback but changed his mind. He addressed the O'Brien siblings instead. 'Did anybody see him talking to a girl last night? Whenever he locks himself in a dark room and plays sad songs there's usually a girl involved.'

Bobby pinched the bridge of his nose. 'Eric, we're on a floating palace full of women. You can't ask the way to the bathroom without talking to a girl.'

'Exactly!' added Eric. 'Maybe there was a particular girl that he…'

'We spent all night on the sea bed fighting Mermaids,' said Sheila, 'we wouldn't know.'

Diana blinked at her. 'Mermaids?'

Sheila smiled at her friend. 'Yep. Good to see you came back by the way.'

Diana shrugged. 'Feh. The food was better here.'

'Came back from where?' frowned Bobby. 'What did I miss?'

The music stopped abruptly. They stared at the door for a moment, but before anybody could speak there was a distant cry from the courtyard beyond. The group looked at one another and, as a whole, gave a world weary sigh.

'Sounds like…' muttered Diana.

'Yeah,' sighed Sheila.

'I guess we should…' began Hank.

'Guess so,' added Bobby.

Eric just tutted.

Sheila knocked softly on the door. 'Presto? We're gonna go to the courtyard and see what that was. You coming?'

The music started up again.

Eric rolled his eyes as he turned and began a painful half jog towards the stairway. 'Fine. Be that way.'

-x-

They entered the courtyard to see a stand-off. Scores of guards stood tensely, their spears and arrows aimed upwards. Some six feet above the ground hovered the distinctive figure of their former arch-enemy. Beneath him, Janapurna was hysterical with rage.

'For the last time, foul being, begone! You are unwelcome here, you pollute the White Palace with your presence!'

Hank caught a glance of Venger's expression and bit down a smirk. He looked worried. Worried and a little frightened. His hands were out in front of himself, defensively, and it was obviously a struggle for his wings to remain hanging stationary in one spot, neither flying nor dropping. He was like a trapped animal. It was a wonderful image, after all the times it had been Hank, and his friends running scared, or trapped and helpless. Venger had obviously come to speak with them, but a thick cruel streak in him wanted to hide amongst the crowd, and watch Venger sweat. Unfortunately, there were members of the gang far fairer minded and well tempered than he was.

'It's Venger!' The gasp was, of course, from Sheila. 'He'll have news for us.'

Janapurna gazed at Sheila in amazement, then up at Venger again.

'If Sheila says you may speak, then you may speak,' spat Janapurna at the apologetic, hovering creature. 'But be quick, and don't you dare set foot on the Palace. It will not allow you to contaminate it, and neither will I.'

'You shouldn't be able to just turn up like that,' yelled Eric up at Venger, furiously. 'Why the Hell is my Early Warning System on the fritz?'

Venger turned to the scowling Cavalier. 'Your scar? I removed the spell, it is only a wound of the flesh now. It will no longer react to me.'

'Augh, Godammit,' growled Eric, 'this damn world just gets better and better…'

'Hey.' Diana squeezed Eric's hand. 'It's OK, you don't need a giant evil burn. You got a big hole in your intestines now…'

'You know,' interrupted Hank, loudly, 'what with the angry mob pointing their weapons at Big V, don't you think it'd be better to leave the small talk with him for some other time?'

The others fell quiet at looked at Hank. Hank flitted his eyes from the patient expectation on Bobby and Sheila's faces to the frosty cynicism on Eric and Diana's, and back up to Venger.

'Well?' he asked Venger.

Venger met the Ranger's gaze. 'The Sea Nymphs have The Truth.'

'Care to tell us something we don't know?' interjected Bobby.

'They are taking it to Furnus…'

'Again,' said Hank, 'we kinda guessed that already.'

Venger paused, and cleared his throat. 'They appear to be taking it to Gudrun's Cave. Furnus still has a portal there. Once the palace has picked up speed from turning it will be able to take you across the sea and upriver without increasing the distance between yourselves and the Sea Nymphs.'

'How are we supposed to catch up with them?' asked Sheila.

'They must travel across many miles of swampland to reach Gudrun's Cave from the river,' replied Venger. 'They are famously arrogant and will not entrust delivering The Truth to Furnus to any creatures of the land which could cross the swamp faster, and due to the landscape they cannot light any fires to summon her faster.'

'Swampland's not exactly easy for us to cross either,' added Bobby.

'You will be swifter than them,' replied Venger.

'Yeah, but will we be swifter enough?' quipped Eric, pausing to pull a face at his own use of grammar.

'That is up to you,' sighed Venger.

An uncomfortable silence fell, broken only by the slow clop of hooves on stone. The unicorn ambled around the back of the crowd, regarding Venger flatly. Hank tried his best not to engage with Uni as she clopped past, but still felt her dirty look burn into the back of his neck. Yet another mistake he'd never be able to live down. He was really notching 'em up, wasn't he? Hank ignored the unicorn and concentrated on Venger again.

'Anything else?'

'The Wizard,' muttered Venger, 'Presto…?'

'Sulking,' replied Eric. 'Why?'

'I see.' Venger nodded to himself, sadly. 'I bring ill news.'

'Because you've been nothin' but a chucklefest 'til now…'

'The Illusionist Varla,' sighed Venger, 'took her own life last night.'

'Oh God.' Sheila put her hand to her mouth. 'Poor Presto. You… think he knows?'

'Of course he knows,' replied Eric. 'He sees so much that we've got no idea about these day. That's what's been eating him. Damn it, I shoulda thought…'

-x-

Presto replaced his glasses, bringing his vision out of the courtyard and back into the tiny room he had locked himself into. So now they all knew. Perhaps they'd let him be for a while. They could probably get another day's rest in before they had to disembark the White Palace. Maybe that would be long enough for him to get his mind in order again.

Of course it wouldn't.

Varla.

He shuddered with fresh tears. He'd been separated from her so many times, losing her to Furnus had been agony but he'd always clung to that hope that it still wasn't final, she may possibly change her mind and join with them. But this was the end. It was over. There was no bringing her back… was there?

Or was there?

That word began to flutter around his head again like a moth. _Necromancy._

'No.' He pushed the palms of his hands hard against his eyes, forcing out the word. No, not that. Once you were dead you were dead you were dead you were dead. He wasn't going to start fiddling with those rules. They were too old, too deep, like the foundations of a building. Whitewood always left them well alone.

Whitewood.

Presto hugged himself, remembering that first poor soul they'd had to bury, and felt very small and alone again. How he wished the Old Man was still with them.

_Necroman…_ 'No!'

How he wished he was still just a stupid Magician with a mischievious hat. How he wished he could go back to just barely being able to see his hand in front of his face, instead of what he could see now… distant landscapes, empty and lifeless, innermost thoughts and feelings, crackling with violent energy, with tenderness and fury. Kosar was bright in his mind's eye after the previous night, shining with outrage. Presto wondered if Eric and Diana were fully aware of what an enemy they'd managed to make for themselves. There was a trail of fire leading away from Kosar, leading somewhere hidden. To Furnus, he had no doubt. Zinn still flickered around, and although Shadow Demon was good at skulking in corners, Presto could smell his malice out there somewhere. There were other dangers out there, too. The Truth still tried to pull his gaze into its whirlpool. That was very worrying. It knew something important that he didn't. Presto contemplated this. Venger knew better than to keep anything from him… didn't he? Eric, too. He could trust Eric, he was sure, after all they'd been through together. But then, he'd been through so much with the others too, and the others were kinda… fuzzy in parts. Uni had proved herself to be an expert in deception. She'd done very well to hide the fact that she could speak from him, and still refused to speak a word of English even to her beloved Barbarian. She hadn't mentioned her troubled dreams to Presto at all. Perhaps she knew that he could see them anyway. The nightmares had been terrible, but they were shadows of the past – the tree and the egg concerned him deeply. He couldn't see where they had come from, or where they were leading to.

He couldn't decipher all of the anger in Diana, either. It wasn't just over Kosar, he knew that now. So what was it? Something awful. Some thrashing creature that she kept locked away somewhere deep, deep within her.

Bobby at least was open to Presto. There was no way the Barbarian could know why he kept dreaming of a crying child. Presto tried not to think of how he would react if he did discover that truth. It wouldn't be terribly long now until that child would be out in the Realm, crying for real. It had been a snap decision to keep that baby's parentage a secret, even from Bobby himself. Presto couldn't imagine the danger the child would be put in if anyone knew it was fathered by one of The Seven, or the disruption it would cause the teenaged Barbarian if he knew. Still, it was a dangerous secret to keep, with The Truth out there.

Presto forced himself to stop mulling over Bobby and found his mind moving to Sheila. Sheila. Lovely, open, sweet little Sheila. She had no skeletons in her closet, everything was brightly lit in her mind – her guilt over the deaths she'd caused, her concern for her brother and friends, her worry for him, bless her good, pure heart… her love for Hank. Her eternal, unending love for him, embedded in her soul, plain and simple and unmovable. In spite of the hurt he'd caused her, she still loved him. She always, always would.

And Hank loved her, too. It was a more restless love than hers, but it was powerful. She was a well rooted tree, he was a wind that whistled around her boughs, shaking her leaves. And Presto wasn't a part of that. He never would be. He couldn't even catch hold of that rushing wind, not properly. Hank was the most intangible of the whole group – his mind was always zooming somewhere unexpected. Sometimes it stopped in a place that Presto remembered fondly – a golden, open place, and every time Presto hoped that Hank would linger there for a while longer, and experience the warmth of his younger years a little more. But Hank would never stay. The wind would howl angrily and whip around dark, dangerous corners. There were hidden things there. Terrible things that Presto couldn't see.

But The Truth saw.

The Truth! The Truth! Trying to pull him in, always, always, and now the dark corners of Hank and Diana, and the crying child, and the silver tree swirled around it and inside and out was fire, fire, fire, and a shape. A shape… wings of fire…

'But we destroyed you…'

A black visor and wings of fire… destroyed… the spell had been destroyed… the Black Knight could never exist.

The Knight opened his eyes, and in his eyes was The Truth…

There was a knocking on the door. 'Presto?'

Presto started awake. He had fallen asleep. How had he fallen asleep? How long had it been?

'Janapurna…?' he muttered.

'We'll be at the swamps in about an hour,' replied Janapurna through the door. 'I thought I'd wake you now. Give you time to have something to eat and collect yourself.'

Presto sat up, groggily. They were only an hour away? He must have slept all day. Stiffly, he got to his feet and opened the door. Janapurna met him with a soft smile. He blinked in the dim light.

'It's evening?'

'You were exhausted,' replied Janapurna. She took his arm and began to lead him down the darkened corridor. 'Poor Presto. I… I heard what happened. To Varla.'

Presto nodded.

'I'm so very sorry,' sighed Janapurna.

Presto watched his feet as he walked. 'Where are the others?'

'Resting.' Janapurna smiled, strangely. 'Orders of a certain Ex-Nemesis of yours.'

Despite himself, Presto found himself smiling too. 'Bet they took that well.'

'There was some unnecessary language,' conceded Janapurna, 'but they did as they were told eventually.'

-x-

There was a respectful knocking at three different doors.

Beyond the first, in the salvaged stables, a unicorn and the teenager who had been nestled with her looked up from their sleep gratefully, as though both had been freed from troubled dreams.

Beyond the second, in a large bedroom suite, there was cursing as a couple disentangled themselves hurriedly.

Beyond the third, in a dormitory, another man and woman looked up from their separate beds in irritation.

'Man,' growled Hank, 'it can't be time to get up already, can it?'

Sheila glanced up at a small window. 'It's nearly dark already! Have we really been talking all day?'

Hank scratched his head, sleepily. 'Guess so. Just like the old days, huh. The really old days.'

'Hank, don't…'

'Remember that night when we'd just started dating? We lay in bed and just talked and talked 'til morning.' Hank laughed. 'Your parent's face when they caught me sneaking downstairs only the day after I'd asked you out. God knows what they must've thought…'

'I remember, Hank.' She smiled a sad smile. 'Happy days, huh?'

'Happy days.' Hank paused, tentatively. 'What's going on here, Red?'

Sheila sat up in her bed. 'We aughta get up.' She began the long process of pulling on her boots.

'Hank sighed. 'Sure.'

-x-

'Well,' said Eric, 'here we are again.'

'The seven of us,' added Bobby, shaking something unspeakable from a boot, 'trudging through a swamp…'

'…in the middle of the night…' chipped in Sheila.

'Freezing cold with no idea where we're going,' continued Diana, starting to warm to the game.

'It's all so…' began Eric, and then struggled to think of the right adjective.

'…Retro?' suggested Hank.

'Terribly Last Decade' agreed Bobby.

Presto came to yet another unsure halt, as he had been doing all night. 'Guys? Do you mind? I'm kinda trying to concentrate.'

'Sorry, Presto,' replied Sheila.

'You OK, Dude?'

Presto didn't return the concerned Cavalier's gaze, but squeezed his eyes beneath his glasses. 'I'm a little tired, that's all. It's tough staying orientated.'

'Yeah,' added Hank, 'we're veering off course a bit.' He blinked as all eyes turned to him. 'Only a bit,' he continued, 'Really, you're doing a great job, Presto.'

'We're not off course.'

'We need to head North by North-East, right?'

'Presto knows where he's going, Hank,' interrupted Diana.

'North by North-East,' replied Presto, wearily, 'that's right.'

Hank pointed up towards the sky. Apart from the moons, there was only one heavenly body visible through the foliage above – a bright star. 'See that star? It's always, always due East at this time of night. And we're facing too close to it right now. We need to go more in a Northwards direction. We're only a few degrees out, nothing to beat yourself up over.'

Presto squinted up at the star. 'You're right.'

Hank shrugged. 'No need to look so surprised. I'm a Ranger. It's sorta what I do.'

'All right, Man!' Beamed Bobby.

Hank briefly glanced around the group. Bobby couldn't have looked prouder and, more importantly, neither could Sheila. He delighted at feeling that old swell of joy that he used to get whenever she looked at him like that. There was an odd smile on Presto's lips, as if he was slowly recognising a long lost memory. There was even a grudging respect on the faces of the Cavalier and the Unicorn. Only Diana refused to acknowledge him and frowned down at her feet.

'Northwards Ho,' muttered Presto. He turned in the new direction and took the lead once more as the group trudged ever closer towards The Truth.


	2. Chapter 2

THE AWFUL TRUTH

-x-

Two

-x-

The Shadow Demon turned another corner in the vast palace and entered yet another grand hall which, just like all the others, was empty. He was by default a fairly nervous creature – he was a good spy and a swift messenger, but his powers were miniscule compared with those he chose to serve. He knew that, should his Master choose to, he could be reduced to nothing in an instant. It had been risky enough working for the Sadistically Humoured and Short Tempered Venger, and the Black Knight had been worryingly intangiable, but working for Furnus… a creature of Shadow alongside a creature of bright Fire… that was just asking for trouble. Furnus was much slower to anger than Venger as well – three accomplices had let her down now and she had punished none of them! Had Varla, Zinn or Kosar made such stupid, selfish errors and allowed to Young Ones to escape in Venger's day they would have regretted it. But Furnus just smiled to herself, as though she knew something that they didn't. She had even allowed the Illusionist to take her own life. Venger would have cursed the girl for not allowing him the pleasure of destroying her himself, whereas Furnus seemed satisfied that it saved her the bother. With every little victory the pupils of the old Dungeon Master made, with every defeat that Furnus' allies suffered, the fire demon simply intensified her focus on the Young Ones, growing ever more silently determined. The Shadow Demon was positive that her flames now were brighter than they had been when he'd seen her first. It also didn't help his nerves that Furnus had a tendency to spring up from nowhere… at least he used to know where Venger was, more or less…

'Shadow Demon.'

Suddenly, Furnus was behind him. He span around.

'Mistress!' He collected himself. 'The Sea Nymphs have made excellent pace. They are almost upon Gudrun's cave. The Seven will never be able to reach them in time. The Truth is as good as yours…'

'Shadow Demon…' Furnus seemed uncharacteristically unfocused. 'Tell me about your former master, Shadow Demon.'

'Venger?' exclaimed Shadow Demon in surprise, 'I thought you… knew him… better than I did…'

'Not that pathetic wretch,' snapped Furnus. 'The Black Knight. Tell me more about him. He has been calling to me through the fire.'

'He… he was destroyed,' stammered Shadow Demon in confusion. 'The Cavalier was to be the Host body, but evil seed that was to create him was removed by Venger. He can never exist.'

Furnus gazed at Shadow Demon with painfully burning eyes for a moment, then snorted a laugh. 'Evil seeds, Shadow Demon? Host bodies? Why is it that everybody in this world is so constrained? Must there be a wicked spell on a mortal for evil to exist?' She sighed. 'No wonder He Whose Name We Do Not Speak was so disappointed in Venger – how disgustingly bound by Rules all of you are. Did you not think that the Black Knight could have his choice of Hosts? Did you not think that Darkness can be planted through means other than magic?'

'…other than magic…?'

Furnus made to sit, and a vast throne of fire asserted itself around her as she did.

'Go back to the Sea Nymphs,' she said. 'Tell them to slow down. Stop, if they must.'

'You… you wish The Seven to take The Truth?'

'Well done, Shadow Demon.'

'But The Truth can tell you where the Dungeon Master is hiding…'

'_He_ will tell me,' replied Furnus, calmly.

'The Black Knight…?'

'But first he must Be. The Truth will bring him out.'

The Shadow Demon hesitated for a moment.

'You truly wish to rely on yet another accomplice, Mistress?' He kept his tone as reverential as possible – he knew he was speaking out of terms, showing insolence with Venger certainly would never tolerate. 'With the greatest of respect, three lesser beings now have disappointed you. Why trust a fourth when you could destroy The Seven swiftly yourself?'

Furnus smiled with a terrible brightness. 'Where would the fun be in that?'

Shadow Demon watched her and thought back to the failed 'Allies' – none of them had successfully killed or captured the Dungeon Master's warriors, but they _had_ made them miserable – they'd created rifts and conflicts in an already strained fellowship. And now she wanted to hand them The Truth.

'You don't want to destroy them yourself, do you?' he asked. 'You want them to destroy each other.'

Furnus just grinned again. 'Aren't you full of questions today?'

Shadow Demon bowed low. 'My apologies, Mistress. I will go to the Sea Nymphs immediately.'

-x-

'Okaaayyy…' Diana rubbed her chilled arms as the group stood aimlessly in the unimpressive cave. 'This… _is_ the right cave, isn't it…?'

Presto realised that everybody was staring at him. 'Sure it is. Gudrun's cave.' He pointed at the reddish brown daubings all over the walls. 'See? That's where Gudrun wrote his final works.' (1)

'But there's no portal here, Presto,' pointed out Sheila, patiently. 'Venger said Furnus had a portal here.'

'Yeah,' breathed Presto, 'he did, didn't he?'

'He was probably lying,' growled Bobby.

'No,' replied Presto, 'there'd be no point in him doing that.'

_So why,_ he asked himself, _was there no portal? And where were the Sea Nymphs? Where was The Truth?_

'Think we're too late?' added Diana.

'We'd know about it if we were too late,' answered Presto.

'So… I don't get it…' Eric scratched his head. 'Did we go past the Sea Nymphs, or miss them, or something?'

'I don't know.'

'Maybe when we went off course we went round them or somethin'…'

'I said, I don't know!' Presto counted to five and tried to swallow his frustration. 'This is all wrong…'

'Well, look,' chipped in Hank, 'way I see it is, we can wait here for them to show up or we can back track a way. Big V did say that they'd make slow progress, we probably passed right by them.'

Eric's eyes lit up. 'Me and Diana can go and scout out…'

'No!' chorused the others in unison.

'What?' cried Eric, innocently, 'why?'

Diana leaned her back against the cave wall. 'I think they might be on to us.'

'Well, I didn't hear anybody congratulating us, Diana.'

'Whaddaya want,' smiled Hank, half to himself, 'a fucking Hallmark card?'

Diana narrowed her eyes but Sheila interjected cheerfully before the Acrobat could say anything.

'Yeah, I mean, we looked for one, but all of the "Congratulations on your On/Off Romance being On again" cards were… they were kinda tacky.'

She beamed at them both, breaking the tension temporarily.

'Mind you,' added Hank, 'I think there might be something to be said for adding to the Retro theme tonight's bringing by splitting up.'

Presto looked across at Hank. 'I'm not sure…'

'Look.' Hank pointed out three traversable pathways that had beaten through the swamp's undergrowth by previous explorers seeking Gudrun's final message. 'There's three paths they could take to get here from the river. We know they didn't take the left one, 'cause that's the one we just took, and we'd have run straight into the little watery sluts. So if we got here before them, chances are they're still on one of the other two paths.'

'Well then, it's a good job one of us here has Magic Swan Powers,' interrupted Diana. 'Gimme an hour or so, I'll do a fly-over, see if I can spot 'em.'

'Sure,' nodded Hank. 'Good idea.'

Diana blinked at the compliment. Hank continued to talk before she had chance to reply. 'In the meantime maybe we should set up a couple of obstacles on the other paths… slow 'em down, get 'em tired and frustrated. Bob, why don't you and Eric take the middle…'

'Can't I go with Sheila?' Interrupted Eric.

'What,' exclaimed Bobby, 'do I stink or somethin'?'

'Now that you mention it…'

'Oh fuck off.' Bobby turned to Hank. 'Hank, can't I go with y…' he trailed off at the sight of the Looks in both Hank and Sheila's eyes. It couldn't have been more obvious that they both desperately wanted to seize this chance to be alone together.

'I'll go with you, Bob,' sighed Presto.

'He's going nowhere,' announced Eric to the group in general. 'He's exhausted.'

'Uh… Pot… Kettle… Black…' retorted Presto. 'This coming from the Human Shish Kebab.'

'I'm Fine and Dandy,' replied Eric, 'got patched up, got me some Brown Sugar, now I'm better than ever…'

'Stop calling me that,' snapped Diana, but the argument had already moved on.

'I agree with Eric,' said Hank. 'We need somebody to stay at the cave, just in case. I think you should do that, Presto.'

'This is a bad idea,' Presto attempted, 'I don't think we're seeing the whole picture here. Splitting up's probably the worst thing we could do…' It was no good, though. He _was_ exhausted – too tired even to argue convincingly against his friends.

'You won't be all alone,' added Sheila, cheerfully, 'Uni can stay with you.'

'That wasn't what I was worried about…' began Presto, then sighed again. He'd been wrong about Varla – he'd been wrong about so much so far. He was probably just being paranoid. 'As long as you're just scouting and setting up booby-traps, OK? If you see anything, come back here and we'll all tackle 'em together. Even if there's only one or two of them. Understand?'

'Sure thing, Presto,' smiled Sheila. 'I don't wanna face any of those Sea Nymphs on my own again.'

'It's important that you don't look directly into The Truth,' continued Presto. 'Bob, are you listening to me? Certainly don't touch it…'

'You can't _handle_ the Truth!' Eric interrupted, beaming with satisfaction.

'Thank you, Eric, I was waiting for that…'

'Dammit, Montgomery!' Sheila stamped her foot a little. 'Ya beat me.'

'Why? What did you have?'

'"The Truth is out there". I've been waiting for a good chance to use it for about an hour, and now I can't.'

Presto tried closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. 'OK… does anybody else have any cultural references they'd like to use right now?'

There was a moment while everybody else thought hard.

'I was being sarcastic!' snapped Presto.

Diana grinned at Presto as she shook her arms out into wings. 'Let's all just say we'll take it extra careful, huh? Just because our mysterious new DM was on hand to pull the Magic Spears out of our spleens last night doesn't mean we can count on him every day.'

'Again with the Magic Spears…' grumbled Eric.

Diana ignored her boyfriend. 'Make sure he doesn't get into too much trouble huh, Bob?'

'Don't fly into any jet engines, Deeds.'

Diana couldn't retort with a swan's beak for a mouth, but gave Eric an Evil Glare anyway.

'I love you too, sweetie,' beamed Eric, delighted at getting the last word.

'Awww…' began Sheila, but Hank was already guiding her by the hand down the furthest right pathway.

-x-

'I spy, with my little eye, something beginning with C.'

'Cave. It was cave last time. It's always cave.'

'You win. Your turn.'

'I'm starting to suspect that you don't really want to play.'

'I'm just a little distracted tonight, OK? I'd hoped to get a little peace and quiet. I wasn't expecting you to get all talkative all of a sudden.'

'Well some of us haven't had a decent conversation in over a week.'

'And whose decision was that?'

Uni huffed irritably and lay her head down on her front legs. 'Fine. Let's just sit here in silence then, why don't we?'

'Thank you.'

There was a very long pause.

'I don't see why you can't let the others know you can talk, you know.'

'I don't see why you can't tell the others you're the Dungeon Master. Isn't the world just full of Enigmas?'

Presto paused again before trying a different tack. 'How've your nightmares been recently?'

'You know bloody well,' replied the unicorn, curtly. She sighed and softened her tone. 'I don't suppose you've got any idea what it all means? The sapling and the egg?'

Presto shrugged. 'They're both signs of renewal. There's… there's no chance you could become pregnant…?'

The unicorn snorted, sadly. 'I haven't seen another unicorn since I was a foal. We were a dying breed even back then, but Furnus had the remainders destroyed. They're all gone now – I can feel it. I used to be able to feel the rhythm of the hooves of the herd as they galloped. There's nothing now. And I could no more breed with a common horse than you could with a monkey.'

'Then I don't know,' admitted Presto. 'Sorry.'

He thought for a moment. 'There's still something wrong,' he said eventually. 'I think I want to call the others back.'

'Don't worry,' replied Uni, 'I hope the Sea Nymphs show up here unexpected. I want to run those Wenches through.'

'I know. But it's not us I'm worried about.'

-x-

Sheila finished sharpening another stick with her dagger and passed it over to Hank.

'This feels kinda sneaky, Hank.'

'_They're_ sneaky,' retorted Hank. 'Come on, Sheila – they pretended to be you and Terri to kidnap your brother and me, they tried to kill you… they deserve everything that's coming to them.' Hank pushed the stick, sharpened end up, into the soft mud of the swamp. Brown water glopped over the booby trap, rendering it invisible.

Sheila paused, halfway through sharpening another stick. 'But what if they don't come this way? What if they go another way? What if someone else walks into all this?'

'You see, that's what I love about you, Sheila.' Hank couldn't meet her eyes, but concentrated on wiping his muddy hands on his tunic instead. 'Look at the circumstances we're in… anybody else would just worry about getting through the next couple of hours in one piece. You're the only person I know who's sweet enough to worry that some innocent bystanders might stumble into this mess. You're quite a girl, Sheila O'Brien.'

'Hank, please stop.'

'Why?' He looked up and caught her earnest gaze. 'It's how I feel, Sheila.'

'You know how much I want to hear you say those things. You… you know…'

'Why are we doing this to ourselves, Sheila?'

'We were unhappy together…'

'And now we're miserable apart. Aren't we? Neither of us can move on, you know that.'

He took a step towards her. She didn't step towards him, but didn't back away either.

'We're not the people we were when we fell in love…' she began.

'Of course we're not,' interrupted Hank, 'who is the same that they were seven years ago? Everybody changes. That's not important. What's important is whether we still love each other.'

'We should go back…' muttered Sheila.

Hank took both of her arms in her hands. She didn't protest, but sighed, letting her gaze travel up his chest, throat and face, finally resting on his eyes. She could see herself reflected in his pupils. So honest – such kind, honest eyes. Hank had really changed since they were kids, there was no denying that, but those eyes had always, always spoken the truth to her.

'I have always loved you, Sheila,' Hank told her, 'and only you. I still do, and I always will. That's what matters – that I love you and… and whether you love me.'

Sheila didn't hesitate. She could never hide her heart from those eyes for too long. 'Of course I love you.'

'Oh, Red…'

He kissed her, the way he had kissed her the very first time. Sheila only resisted for the briefest moment before melting into it, meeting his passion with her own. God, she'd missed those lips and those arms so much! It was only when he slid a hand up the side of her ribs to the soft curve of her breast that she stopped him.

'Sorry,' he mumbled. 'I just… I…'

'It's OK.' She flashed him a fond smile. 'Let's just take this easy for now. I don't wanna rush headlong into anything and end up with the same problems we had before.'

Hank took her hand. 'You're the best, you know that?'

'You'd better believe it.' She grinned. 'Let's head back.'

-x-

'We should probably head back.'

'One more tree.'

The Barbarian smashed the base of a largeish tree with his club, sending it crashing down over the pathway. Eric tried to leap out of the way of the wave of mud created by the tree's collapse but was splattered with muck anyway.

'OK BamBam, I think you've smashed up enough trees for one night now. How's about we…'

'Aw, what's your rush?' Bobby's face split into an old fashioned, mocking grin. 'Itchin' to get back to your _girlfriend_?'

'Well, as a matter of fact, that would be nice…'

'Why can't _we_ have a conversation for a change?'

'You want us to have a conversation.'

'Sure.'

'You and me.'

'Yeah. We hardly ever talk to each other – not properly. I bet we've got lots more in common than we think.'

'OK then…' Eric folded his arms and tried to think of a subject. 'Uh…'

There was a long, awkward pause as they both racked their brains for some common ground.

'So how 'bout them Dodgers?' blurted Bobby eventually, falling back on his catch-all ice breaker.

Eric just looked at the teenager blankly.

'You… don't even follow Baseball?' Bobby asked.

'Oh! No.' Eric scratched his head. 'I think Diana does though, I could ask her…'

'You're unbelievable!'

'Oh come _on_, Bob,' sighed Eric in exasperation. 'Let's stop pretending that you paired up with me tonight for any reason other than to give Hank and Sheila time alone.'

Bobby smashed another tree. 'I take you don't approve.'

'I think she could do better.'

'I'm her brother, Eric. If anybody should be deciding someone isn't good enough for her it's me. But Hank's a really good guy. Sure, he's had his problems, but haven't we all? He loves her. And she loves him.'

'_You_ love him.'

Bobby grinned. 'Grow up.'

'You think he's just Dreamy…'

They were interrupted by a flurry of ebony feathers as a giant black swan landed nearby.

'Nice of you to join us…' Eric began, but Diana quickly silenced him by clasping a feathery hand over his mouth.

'They're here,' she hissed. 'The Sea Nymphs, they're only a few yards away from you.'

'How many?' whispered Bobby.

'Only three,' replied Diana.

Bobby sucked through his teeth. 'We'd better get the others.'

'Are you kidding?' Diana released Eric to address Bobby. 'There's only three of them! We've taken on armies!'

'You don't know what they're like,' replied Bobby. 'It only took two of them to trick me and Hank…'

'That's not saying much,' chipped in Eric. 'Presto did say not to take them on ourselves, mind.'

Diana rolled her eyes. 'I can't believe you guys. Eric, if Presto jumped off a cliff would you follow him?'

'How big a cliff?'

There was a 'glop' from the swamp beyond, and the trio ducked behind the trunk of one of the fallen trees. Three willowy, translucent female figures slowly trudged into view. It was obvious from the way they moved that they were out of their element. They were miserable and filthy, and the mud stuck to their little feet and weighed them down. The larger of the three carefully carried a heavy looking box.

'That's it?' breathed Eric, 'three little girls and a box?'

'They look…' Diana frowned. 'Wow, they look tired.'

'Appearances can be deceptive,' reminded Bobby. 'They _do_ look tired, though.'

'You're right, Diana,' said Eric, 'this is a walkover…'

The smallest Sea Nymph stopped and snapped her head to face them. They shrank back a little.

'Did she see us?'

'Sshhh.'

The small Sea Nymph tugged at the arms of the other two and stopped them, pointing to the fallen tree where the adventurers were hiding. The middle Sea Nymph took a step forward, drawing a small dagger.

Not a word was spoken. The two young men followed the Acrobat's lead, leaping up from behind the tree trunk, their weapons raised. The Sea Nymphs visibly panicked. Only the Nymph with the knife made an attempt to fight, lunging at Diana. The other two turned on their heels and tried to flee.

Diana swiftly blocked the Sea Nymph's blade with her staff, knocking the creature off balance. 'Get the other two!'

'Onto it.' Eric and Bobby were already chasing the others.

The armed Sea Nymph charged at Diana a second time, but she made a sweep at the creature's ankles, sending her tumbling into the mire. The Acrobat stamped a boot down onto the Sea Nymph's delicate hand, forcing her to release the knife in agony. She kicked the blade away and looked up at the progress the others were making. Bobby had managed to tackle the smallest Sea Nymph to the ground and was searching her while Eric grappled with the largest one, trying to wrench the box out of her hands.

'This one's got nothin', declared the Barbarian.

'It's gotta be in this box,' yelled Eric. He made another tug at the box in the Sea Nymph's possession and kicked at her shin. 'Diana,' he added, 'go get the others, would ya? I've got this covered.'

'You just want to take all the glory, don't you?'

'Got it in one.'

Diana shook her head as she turned to take off. 'That man.'

Deeming her to be useless, Bobby released the small Sea Nymph and ran to grab the one still fighting Eric from behind. The Sea Nymph tried hard to wriggle away one last time, but to no avail. In one fast movement, she opened up the box and tipped the contents into the swamp.

'Shit!' Eric dropped to his knees and began to search through the murk for the dropped object.

The Sea Nymph took advantage of the surprise tactic to slither out of Bobby's grasp and hurry away, following the trail of the others, already in flight. Bobby made to follow her but was stopped by Eric.

'I got it! Bob, I got it!'

Eric held up a small sphere, around the size of a ping pong ball and covered in mud.

Bobby blinked. 'That's it? That's what all the fuss has been about?'

'They called it a Pearl of Wisdom.' Eric rubbed some of the mud off the little ball, revealing a pearlescant surface. 'It's a pearl all right.' He got to his feet, gazing at it curiously.

'Didn't Presto say not to touch it?' Asked Bobby. 'I don't think we're even supposed to look at it too hard you know, Eric… Eric?'

But Eric wasn't listening. Eric wasn't even there any more. Eric's mind was in a house back on Earth. It was Christmas.

'_He's still Eric. He can grow up just as much as he likes, he'll still be the whiny kid that nearly got us killed about a hundred times...'_

'Eric?' repeated Bobby.

'_It doesn't matter, Diana. He's still not good enough for you.'_

'Eric? You're scaring me.'

'_Don't you know that I love you, Diana?'_

'Eric?'

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

_(1) Footnote - Gudrun The Great is widely regarded as the greatest mind in Realmic Antiquity – Philosopher, Sorcerer, Poet, Historian and Inventor, he made more advances to Realmic civilisation than any other individual and personally met almost every being of note in his time, including the Kings of the remote Eastern lands during a five year voyage gathering folk tales and historical documents from all corners of the Realm. On his 100th Birthday he pledged that he would spend his remaining years as a Hermit in the belief that his isolation would lead him to discover the true meaning of existence. He promised to write his findings down before he died so that future generations could seek out his final thoughts and hopefully achieve Enlightenment. Unfortunately, the solitude mixed with diseases caught from drinking the polluted waters of the swamp caused him to lose his mind completely, and 200 years later, on finally discovering Gudrun's last words daubed on the inside of the remote cave where he had lived and died, Realmic Scholars were disappointed to find that the lost works they had been seeking for so long comprised of no more than repeated claims that Gudrun was 'A pretty little girl' and a brief description of an adventure he believed he had had with a talking fish called Cecil._


	3. Chapter 3

THE AWFUL TRUTH

-x-

Three

-x-

Presto was hit by a wave of red and black so powerful and sudden that it physically knocked him flat on his back.

'Woah!'

'Presto?' Sheila, approaching the cave along with Hank, broke into a run towards him. 'Are you OK? What just happened?'

'Where are the others?' Presto shakily picked himself up onto his feet. The tide of blind fury was still rushing through his conscious, disorientating him. It was such a primal rage he couldn't even tell who it was coming from.

Diana landed outside the cave. 'You guys – we got it!'

'What?' breathed Presto.

'The Truth! The Sea Nymphs were a piece of cake to fight in swampland, they were barely even armed.' She gesticulated towards the middle pathway, excitedly. 'C'mon!'

'Oh no…' whispered Presto, 'no, no, no…'

'That's not like Sea Nymphs,' Sheila pondered, 'the ones I fought were real tough cookies.'

'They _wanted_ us to get the Truth,' said Presto.

'But that's silly!' Sheila gave a small, nervous laugh. 'What good would that do them…?'

Presto caught the brief exchange of sideways glances between the Ranger and the Acrobat and finally, finally saw what it was they'd been hiding.

'Oh dear God, no…'

'What?' Asked Sheila. 'What is it, Presto?'

Presto turned to Diana. 'Where's Eric?'

Diana didn't get the opportunity to answer him. There was a cry of warning from Bobby behind them. As one, they turned, just in time to see a flash of shining, crimson outrage barrel into Hank, knocking the Ranger to the ground.

Hank was able to say 'Eric, listen…' before the first punch hit him in the mouth.

'What's he doing?' Shrieked Sheila.

'I don't know, cried Bobby, still catching up with the Cavalier, 'he picked up The Truth and he just went nuts.'

'Shit!' Diana started trying to pull Eric away from Hank. 'Eric - I think I know what you saw… it's OK, it was long before we were together…'

'What was?' asked Sheila in a small voice.

'She was still my Girl,' screamed Eric at Hank, still pummelling him and ignoring Diana, 'and you knew that, you son of a bitch. You _used_ the fact I was in love with her!'

It was hard to pick out who was yelling what, there was such a cacophony going on. Only Presto and Uni stood in stunned silence. Bobby darted forward, grabbed Eric by the shoulders and hauled him off the grovelling Ranger. Sheila ran to Hank, sobbing.

'Get offa me, you big idiot…' Eric tried to jab a sharp elbow into Bobby's chest but the Barbarian held fast. 'Let me _go!_ I'm gonna kill him!'

'Eric, please…' started Hank.

'I'm not letting go of you until you calm down,' Bobby told Eric. 'Whatever it is you saw in that thing it can't be enough to justify…'

'He fucked my Girl.'

'What…?' chorused the O'Brien siblings. Bobby loosened his grip and Eric wriggled free.

'It's not what you think…' began Diana.

'Please, Eric. Not like this.'

'Back on Earth,' continued Eric, shakily, approaching Hank. 'He knew how I felt about her and he used that, used my feelings to get another pathetic notch on his bedpost.'

Sheila shuffled away from Hank a little. 'Hank, what's he talking about? What does he mean, "another notch"?'

'Eric, stop. Please. Not in front of…'

'You used her. And you used me. You _laughed_ at me.'

'Sweetie.' Diana took Eric's arm. 'It wasn't like that.'

Eric shook her arm off him, furious. 'Don't you fucking well tell me what it was like. I just _saw_ what happened! I _know_ what it was like!' He made a dive at Hank, catching the Ranger's face with his fist yet again, only this time nobody tried to stop him. 'You had her,' fumed Eric as he hit, 'and you got to make fun of stupid old Eric too. What fucking fun.'

Hank managed to block a punch and scoot away from Eric a little. 'Won't somebody help me…?' All he saw was a white faced Sheila being wrapped in her brother's arms before Eric hit again. Hank blocked another blow with his forearm and managed to get one in himself, hitting Eric hard on the lip, drawing blood but rather than subduing the Cavalier it only enraged him more.

'I bet you rubbed my nose in it too,' added Eric, breathlessly. 'One of those nights when you'd talk me into sharing a joint and brag about the latest girl you'd screwed, only disguising it as a confession, right? "Oh Eric, I'm such a jerk, I can't believe I did it again…" only you'd change a couple of details so I wouldn't guess.'

'Hank…?' started Sheila, quietly.

'Please shut up,' whispered Hank.

'Let me see,' continued Eric, 'Christmas, so…' Eric blinked at Hank. 'The dancer. She was the dancer, wasn't she?'

'What dancer?' asked Diana.

'Congratulations, Diana,' grimaced Eric, bitterly, 'after you let this worthless cunt screw you he turned you into a Brazilian dance teacher whose name he "couldn't remember".'

'Eric…' began Hank.

'You should be pleased though, he did tell me you were really hot. Better than any of the other skanks he worked his way through.'

'Eric, no more.' Hank tried pushing himself away from the furious Cavalier again. 'Nobody needs to know this…'

'Oh yes,' cried Eric, flinging his hands skywards, 'the old "nobody needs to know this" line! Don't tell Presto, don't tell Bobby, certainly don't let Sheila know. Anything for a quiet fucking life, huh? Well, I'm sorry, Hank, but it's a bit fucking late for that now…'

'What is he talking about?' Sheila screamed, 'what are any of you talking about?'

Eric got to his feet, at once victorious and defeated. 'Cat's out of the bag now, dickhead. Are you gonna tell her, or do I have to do that too?'

'Shut up,' growled Hank.

'Hank…?' asked Bobby, but Hank couldn't bear to look at either Barbarian or Thief. He cast his eyes up at Eric.

'We could'a settled this like adults…' he began.

'_Adults?_' sneered Eric. 'You mean keeping more secrets from people so you get away with what you did… you think that's Adult?'

'I meant without you having one of your trademark tantrums,' replied Hank, meeting the other young man's eyes coldly. The Ranger was clutching at straws. Deep down he knew that the time when he could shame Eric into backing down was long gone. As did Eric.

The Cavalier held his gaze, narrowing his eyes in disgust. 'Screw you. Now, are you gonna tell that poor girl what you did to her?'

'Shut up, Eric.' Instinctively, Hank reached behind him.

'Did you always use protection?' continued Eric, 'did you ever give her some dirty bitch's diseases…?'

Hank didn't even realise Big Sally was in his hands until it was pointed at Eric's head. 'I said, shut the fuck up!'

Presto barely had chance to utter 'Hey' in protest before Eric's own reflexes lead him to swiftly draw his sword and point it at Hank.

'Hey!' continued Presto, 'enough! That is enough, both of you!' He tried to move to grab one of the young men, but Diana darted in front of him, attempting to slide in between the two pointed weapons.

'No!' The Acrobat was hysterical. 'Not this! Not again!'

Presto caught her by the arms and was just about able to restrain her.

'It's not worth it,' she sobbed, 'I'm not worth it. They're gonna kill each other, Presto…'

'No they're not,' replied Presto, as calmly as he could. 'They're gonna put their weapons down, right now. Aren't they?'

Neither Hank nor Eric stirred out of the stalemate.

'Hank,' added Presto, 'this is pointless. What's done is done. Put the crossbow down. You're not gonna shoot him.'

Hank, his eyes alight with angry tears, didn't waver his gaze from Eric. 'You don't know me,' he whispered.

'I realise that,' answered Presto, evenly. 'But you still can't shoot him. Your bow's not loaded.'

Hank blinked, focussing on Big Sally. There was indeed no arrow in the shaft. 'Shit.' He lowered the crossbow. The only move Eric made was to allow a joyless little smile to curl his lips.

'Eric…?' warned Presto.

'Eric, please…' added Diana.

Eric still didn't move. Hank remained trapped, on the ground.

'Put the sword down,' Presto continued.

Diana was sobbing hard. 'Please!'

Eric gave Diana the briefest sideways glance. His sword sliced a powerful arc through the air, missing Hank's head by millimetres, then with a frustrated scream, the Cavalier threw the sword down into the mud.

Amidst the shocked cries, Hank unflinched to see that he was still all in one piece. He looked from the sword on the ground to the Cavalier standing over him, his head in his clawed hands.

'Thank you,' he breathed. 'I know you probably want to kill me right now, but…'

'You're not worth killing,' Eric replied in a strained whisper. 'Hank's already dead.'

Hank blinked off Eric's comment and tried to continue. '…but you have to remember, you may have had feelings for her, but you and Diana weren't together when it happened…'

'_We_ were, though. Weren't we?'

Everybody turned to look at the little Redhead, still wrapped in the protective arms of he brother.

'Back on Earth? I was away at Christmas. Diana? Hank? Tell me it's not true. One of you. Please.'

'Sheila…' Diana was still sniffing back tears. 'I'm so sorry. I was upset, I was drunk, I…'

'My God,' interrupted Bobby. Sheila became weak in his arms. Her legs buckled and her body began to shake.

'I can't… I can't believe…'

'I'm sorry you had to hear about it this way,' sighed Eric, taking a step towards her. 'I'm sorry we both did.'

Sheila shrunk away from Eric. 'You knew.'

'Huh?'

'He told you. Maybe not about Diana but he told you he was cheating on me and you kept it from me.'

'I…'

'Stop lying to me, Montgomery, you just admitted it!'

'It wasn't up to me to tell you…' attempted Eric.

'You were supposed to be my friend, Eric! Of course it was up to you! My God, what kind of idiot did you take me for? What kind of idiot did any of you take me for? Sweet, trusting Sheila, right? She's so easy to betray because she's just so God Damn gullible. That's it, isn't it?' She fought her way out of Bobby's arms. 'I don't think I want to be anywhere near you guys for a while.'

'Don't… it's still dangerous out there…' Presto released Diana in order to attempt keeping Sheila from storming off into the swamp. The Acrobat was faster than him, however. She reached out to Sheila, grabbing her shoulder.

'Sheila…' she began, apologetically.

Sheila barely registered Diana, but in one swift movement tugged the other girl's arm down and away, sending her tumbling into the mud.

'Don't you touch me, Diana Jones,' hissed the Thief. 'Don't even look at me. It's all I can do to keep myself from wringing your lying, cheating neck right now. You keep that in mind.'

Sheila turned away from the others.

'Sh…' started Hank.

Sheila froze, momentarily. 'Not one word, Van Walwyck,' she seethed, her back still to him, 'not one _fucking_ word! Just leave me alone – all of you!'

She cloaked, and disappeared. A line of running footprints beat a path towards an overgrown section of the swamp beyond and then there was nothing at all.

A stunned silence fell briefly amongst the others. Diana, still in tears, still sitting where she had fallen, was the first to speak.

'Will she be OK…? Someone should go after her.'

'She said, she wanted to be alone.' There was a dangerous edge to Bobby's voice. 'And can you guys blame her? Jesus Christ, you think you know someone…'

'Tell me about it,' added Eric, glaring daggers at Diana.

'Fuck you, Eric!' snapped Bobby, ferociously. 'Don't act like you're not just as bad as the others. So you've been made to look an idiot today. Don't you think maybe what goes around comes around?'

'That's it,' cried Eric, 'I'm outta here.' He too turned on his heels and marched off into the uncharted murk of the swamp.

'Not you as well, Eric,' begged Presto. 'We gotta stick together here.'

'Stick together?' scoffed Bobby. 'Presto, do you even know what kind of people you're talking to any more?'

Presto took a long, sad look at Bobby, then Diana, then Hank. He sighed, defeated. 'Guess not.'

Diana pulled herself free from the swamp, shivering. 'I'm going after him. Don't try to stop me…'

'Do what you want, Diana.' Presto hugged himself, suddenly aware of the cold. 'I can't tell you what to do.'

'Well,' Hank strapped Big Sally back in its place and started to walk in the direction Sheila had ran, 'if she's going after Eric, I'm gonna go and talk with Sheila.'

Bobby ignored Diana taking off to the air but watched Hank from his steady, guarded position. 'She said not to follow her.'

'She's upset.'

'She _said_ to leave her alone.'

Hank tried, and failed, to meet eyes with the Barbarian. 'I have to talk with her.'

Bobby watched Hank disappear on Sheila's trail for a moment, clenching and unclenching his fists. Then, with a sudden impulse, he followed the Ranger into the thicket.

There was a long pause. Presto joined the unicorn in the mouth of Gudrun's cave. Uni opened her mouth and drew breath to speak, but Presto silenced her with a curt shake of his head. He cleared his throat politely, as if waiting for somebody to speak first. When nothing happened, he spoke himself.

'Hey, Sheila.'

Sheila, still at the edge of the undergrowth, uncloaked miserably.

'Did you know too, Presto?'

Presto shook his head. 'I'm as surprised as you are. Some Du… some Wizard, huh?'

'How do I know you're not lyin' to me just like the others did?'

'You don't. You just have to trust me… although just look where trusting me has got us so far…'

Sheila sighed, and began to approach the cave.

'I trust you, Presto. You've been betrayed yourself. You know how bad this hurts.'

'Varla,' breathed Presto.

'Varla,' Sheila agreed. She sat down between Wizard and unicorn. 'You wouldn't wish that sort of pain on anyone, right?'

Presto nodded, looking down at his fingernails. 'What are we gonna do?'

Sheila put her arm around him, gingerly. Presto swallowed hard, and leaned into her. He closed his eyes at the soft sensation of their bodies pressed against each other and – just for a moment – shut himself off to all the emotions of the others as they thrashed around him. For a moment his mind was able to concentrate solely on himself and the warm arm holding him close.

'I wish Bobby hadn't gone to try and find me,' said Sheila, quietly.

Not particularly wanting to admit that he was actually pretty glad to have the hug all to his self, Presto didn't reply.

'He shoulda known I wouldn't go far,' continued Sheila.

Presto still remained silently in the hug, and tried not to contemplate that it might not have been Sheila Bobby had gone after.

-x-

Eric found a small clearing and let himself stop. The loss of momentum caused his body to become shaky and weak. His legs gave way and he collapsed to his knees. The swamp beneath him swallowed him up to his hips.

'God, I hate swamps.'

He laughed a little to himself – his laughter turning into hysterical little gasps. He buried his face in his hands as he felt the hot pricks of angry tears behind his eyes. There was the slightest sound – almost imperceptible, the sound of a graceful creature making a soft landing on a some distance away. Eric was well enough acquainted with the noise to recognise it. He scowled over at the creature on the other side of the clearing. Diana didn't alter herself into human form but remained a swan, staring at him with a silent sorrow.

'Go away,' he muttered.

The swan didn't budge.

'I don't want to look at you,' he growled. 'All I can see when I look at you is what I saw back there - you and him. Why did you protect him, all that time? Why did you protect him just now? Actually, don't answer that. I don't think I wanna know. Just get lost.'

Still the swan kept her ground. Eric took off a heavy gauntlet and hurled it at her in anger. It clipped her slightly. She flapped her wings at him. He removed the other gauntlet and threatened her with it.

'I said, piss off!'

Diana took off, flying back up above the trees noisily.

'Dammit!'

Eric sank a little further into the swamp and let the tears take over.

-x-

Hank heard heavy footsteps in the mire behind him and turned.

'Bob.'

The large teenager had cut quite a path through the overgrown swampland as he'd followed Hank – pulling up roots and tearing down creepers. The Barbarian freed himself from a final overhanging branch and stopped before the Ranger. Hank cast his eyes down again. It wasn't just disappointment in Bobby's eyes any more. The boy was welling up with bitter rage.

'She said to leave her alone, Hank. Why can't you just leave her alone?'

'Bobby… I know I did some terrible things. Really, really terrible things… but I still love Sheila.'

Bobby snorted sarcastically. 'You even know what love is? _I_ love Sheila, Hank. I wouldn't hurt her like you hurt her. I wouldn't keep secrets from her. I'd do anything for her. I'd protect her from anything. She wouldn't have to worry about getting dumped on by some greaseball with a brother like me.'

'She's real lucky to have a guy like you watching her back…'

'No she's not, Hank,' Bobby took another step towards the Ranger, 'because I messed up. See, I thought I didn't have to protect her from jerk boyfriends screwing her around, because she was going steady with this wonderful guy. This terrific, caring, honest guy who I trusted completely with my sister's happiness because, you see…' Bobby paused, biting down a sob. 'I loved him, too. He was a brother to me.' Bobby broke down, tears choking his words. 'And I told you that, Hank. You knew that. We were brothers.'

'Bobby,' Hank told his feet.

'I can't stand it, Hank.'

'I'm so sorry.'

'No you're not.'

'Yes. I really am.'

Bobby looked Hank square in the eye, through his tears. The spark of fury in the Barbarian's gaze was enough to make Hank take a cautious step back. Bobby reached out and grabbed the Ranger's arm.

'You're still in one piece. And for somebody who cheated on my sister, that's not nearly sorry enough.'

'Bob…'

Hank had never been punched so hard before in his life. Everything went black for a moment before the swamp reasserted itself around him through a red haze. He only noticed he was flat on his back when the Barbarian picked him up by the hair and punched him again, sending him into a tree. He tried to protect his face with his hands but that only drove Bobby's assault on him further down his body, with a blow to the stomach and a knee to the groin. Screaming, Hank curled up foetally against the attack. He just about registered through his pain that Bobby was still sobbing.

'I trusted you!' Cried Bobby as he kicked at the cowering body. 'I loved you so much. I never gave up on you, even when you'd given up on yourself. And now what? _Now what?_' One last, hard kick found Hank's face, breaking his nose and showering him with blood. Bobby grabbed Hank by the collar and hauled him upright again, slamming his back against a tree. 'What are you?'

Hank gasped, struggling to find the breath to speak. 'I'm sorry,' he replied, spitting blood.

Bobby regarded him, his eyes still streaming. 'Yeah. You sure are.'

The Barbarian released him and turned back onto the path he had beaten through the thicket.

Hank slid gracelessly down the tree trunk, landing face down in the mire.

_And that,_ mocked Eric's voice in his head, _is finally that. Now all your friends hate you._

Hank tried to lift his head out of the thick mud.

_Why bother?_ The voice continued, _do us all a favour. We wish you'd die. We wish you'd just go away._

Through the dark murk, he could see something approaching. A figure, in armour as black as his loneliness and wings as fiery as his pain.

_Besides, how do you carry on from here? It's over, Hank. Admit it. Game over._

Still the figure came closer, his face completely visored save for his eyes. The voice was changing somehow… it was becoming a different man's voice.

_You know whose fault it is too, don't you? A weak man would say it was your own fault, but you're not weak and you know damned well that isn't the case. Someone was told not to look into The Truth. He didn't have to. He didn't have to cause such a scene, didn't have to upset Sheila like that. You offered to settle the matter like adults, and he refused. Damn childish. And now here you are, bleeding with your face in the mud while he's off being comforted by that Whore. Call that fair? Is that how it's going to be, now?_

The figure was right in front of him now – staring at him with bright blue, blazing eyes.

_There's something else,_ added the voice, _something that was said earlier…_

Hank suddenly pulled his face from the mud, gasping for air. With a grim, painful laugh he looked up to the sky.

'I know how to find you, you meddling, cowardly son of a bitch,' he announced. 'And when I do, you're gonna fucking well pay for ruining my life, you hear that? Wherever you are, _who_ever you are. Understand, Dungeon Master?'


	4. Chapter 4

THE AWFUL TRUTH

-x-

Four

-x-

_It's over. It's all over. And here you are. At the end of everything, sitting doing nothing._

Presto tried to reason with himself that it wasn't the end. It was the biggest fall-out within the group he'd ever witnessed, but it wasn't the end. They had been through so much before, they could get through this.

_No we can't. Not this. Not this._

Presto remained still, his arm frozen around Sheila's shoulder.

_Look, Presto! Look what's happening to them! Look! Look!_

He opened his mind.

_BLOOD! BLOOD AND BLOOD AND SCREAMING AND BLO…_

Gasping, he closed himself off again. The blood and the filth was everywhere – it contaminated them all. It filled his mind with a thick, foul ooze.

'What is it, Presto?' Sheila was staring at him, her honest eyes full of concern.

Presto concentrated hard and opened himself up again – only a tiny way this time.

_Spinning… the mire and the blood were spinning, swirling. Mist. Fog. Confusion. Isolation. A single dark figure. Wings of fire, of fire, of fire and a fury to match at the centre. A whirlpool. A tornado. Fear! Fear!_

'Something's coming,' he whispered. 'Something bad.'

'No.' Sheila shook her head with a false calm. 'It can't be. Because it can't get any worse than this.'

_Him. Him! And a new servant. Venger was the darkness, Furnus is the flame. And the Knight… the Knight is the blade. Human brutishness, human rage. The dark figure walking forwards, coming so close, so close, almost upon them, his face beneath so much steel, can't see, can't look, can't look into the eyes._

'He's gone,' murmured Presto to himself. 'He's never going to be. He can't…'

Sheila laid a soft, slender hand over his. 'Who? Who's gone?'

Presto stalled, running a dry tongue over the roof of his mouth.

_The eyes. The eyes. The eyes are the key. See. See into that gash in the steel that covers the face. See them. The eyes, the eyes… are blue. His eyes are blue._

'Presto… speak to me. What is it?'

…_but the Knight has Eric's sword, wears Eric's armour. How…?_

'They're stolen,' Presto muttered to himself, 'taken… trophies…'

'What are? You're not making any sense…'

Presto stood up, suddenly. 'We gotta go.'

'Somebody's in trouble,' worried Sheila, getting to her feet, 'aren't they? Who is it?'

Presto walked forwards, then stopped, then looked around at the overgrown marsh surrounding him. 'Where are you?' he whispered, 'where have you gone?'

'It's Hank, isn't it? Hank's in trouble.'

'Hank's in trouble, yeah…' muttered Presto.

'Oh God…'

'…and so is Eric. So's Diana, and Bobby, and Uni and you and me. It wants to destroy us.' Presto shot Sheila a brief, worried look. 'It wants to destroy us all.'

-x-

…sniff…

There was a rustle and a snap behind Eric. He snapped his head around, peering furiously into the thicket.

'I told you to stay the fuck away from me, Diana.'

There was a long pause. Silence. Nothing happened. After a while Eric tired of glaring into the gloom and turned back.

…sniff…

This time, the feet approaching him were more careful. This time, they trod lightly, avoiding any noise. Still the Cavalier didn't look back. He was caught up in his own thoughts. He was… sniffing.

'I… I made you cry…?'

Eric sat up a little, recognising the voice, but didn't turn to look at the speaker.

'Don't flatter yourself, Hank.'

'You're crying,' continued Hank, keeping his distance. 'You're crying because of what you saw… what I did.'

Eric snorted, contemptuously. 'Does that make you proud, Hank? Yeah, you screwed the woman I love, you wrecked our relationship before it even began and it's upset me. Does that make you happy?'

He finally turned around and looked at the Ranger.

'Jesus,' he added, 'what happened to you?'

Hank reached up unconsciously and lightly touched his bloodied face. He smiled a little, bitterly. 'I got beat up by a kid.'

Eric nodded, objectively. 'You deserved it.'

'Ever had the crap beaten out of you, Eric?'

'Many a time.'

'Hmm. I don't find that too hard to believe.' Hank walked towards the spot where Eric was sitting and crouched down next to him. Eric watched him warily, but didn't flinch away. 'Back in the old days, back when we were just kids… do you have any idea how much I wanted to pop you one? I mean, every single Goddamn day?'

'If it makes you feel any better,' replied Eric, poker faced, 'the feeling was more than mutual.'

'And then along came Janapurna, and all that restraint it took to keep me from wringing your neck just floated away,' added Hank, 'only I had no idea you were such a dirty fighter.'

'You don't get away from a gang of kids all twice your size with your shoes still on your feet and your wallet still in your pocket by using the Marquis of Queensbury rules.' Eric turned away from Hank. 'So is that what Christmas was about? You decided to play dirty yourself.'

'Now who's flattering himself? What happened wasn't about you, it was about me and Diana.' Hank got to his feet, slowly.

'You and Diana…' Eric snarled, his face still turned. 'There is no "you and Diana". And now there isn't even "you and Sheila". Best thing that could happen to the poor kid.'

'That why you split us up?'

'_I_ split you two up? How's about you take a reality check, Ha…' Eric turned around to face Hank, and froze, mid sentence.

Hank had drawn, loaded and aimed Big Sally silently, and had it pointed square at Eric's head. He smiled a little, hollowly.

'What the fuck…?' Eric's muscles tensed. He briefly considered jumping at Hank, or making a dash for the cover of the thicket, but decided against it. Instead he remained where he was, waiting for Hank to waiver. Even after everything that had happened – even after the years of the resentment, the growing tension and the night's eruption, he was still Hank. He couldn't actually _shoot_ him, could he…? Could he?

Hank didn't respond. He stayed perfectly still, his finger curled around the crossbow's trigger, as tense and unmoving as his smile.

'Hank?' Eric swallowed, as discreetly as he could. 'Quit pissing around, would ya? Put that thing down.'

'Why did you want to split me and Sheila up, Eric?'

'Jesus, Hank, you screwed the woman I love…'

'Is that why? You were jealous?'

'Put the fucking crossbow down, man.'

'You were jealous of me and Sheila, is that why you did it?'

'Put it down!'

'I want the truth, Eric.'

'Oh,' sneered Eric, 'so _that's_ what this is all about. Well, you know what?' He pulled the large pearl from his belt and held it out to the Ranger. 'Take it. You're welcome to it. I hope it brings you as much happiness as it did me.'

Hank just shook his head. 'What would I want with that? It's not gonna tell me what I want to know, just what it wants to tell.'

'You… then what _do_ you want?'

Hank paused for a moment before speaking again. 'You've seen the damage Big Sally can do to a person, haven't you, Eric?'

'Jesus Christ, Hank…'

'You've already had one hole punched through you this week,' Hank continued, 'I daresay you wouldn't appreciate a second. After all, who can say if the new DM'll come to rescue you this time.'

Eric blinked up at Hank. 'What…?'

'That's how you got away the other night though,' said Hank, 'wasn't it? Our elusive new Dungeon Master finally crawled out of the woodwork and carried you off to safety, didn't he?'

Eric didn't answer.

'Did you see him? I bet you did, didn't you.'

Eric held out the Truth again. 'You want the answers? Take it. Go on, take it.'

'Why do I have to ask some bauble, Eric? _You_ know the truth.'

'I can't tell you.'

'Of course you can. Get up.'

'No…'

Hank lunged at Eric suddenly, the crossbow still aimed at the other youth's head. '_GET UP!_'

'No. No, I won't…'

'Get up, you _COWARD_!'

'Fuck you!'

Hank squeezed the trigger. There was a pause that seemed to last an eternity, and then there was a scream.

-x-

'Where are they? _Where are they?_'

'Presto…' managed Sheila as she panted for breath, 'I don't understand. What are you talking about?'

'They were here.' Presto slowly paced a circle around the small clearing, watching his feet as they glopped through the mud. 'They were right here!'

There was the sound of a vine crunching underfoot off in the thicket. Sheila span around to face it, gripping her dagger nervously.

'It's only Bob,' Presto muttered, absent mindedly. Something in the mire caught his eye. He stooped, pulling his sleeve over his fingers to pick it up. 'Oh no.'

Bobby pushed through the undergrowth into the clearing. He looked pale and shaken.

'Hey,' he murmured.

'Bobby,' gasped Sheila. The redhead sheathed her dagger and ran over to hug her brother.

Presto barely nodded an acknowledgement as he carefully wiped the small object, taking care never to focus his vision on it. 'They left it,' he breathed to himself. 'They… they just left it…'

'I heard yelling,' said Bobby quietly, 'is everything OK?'

'Somethin's got Presto all spooked,' Sheila explained, 'he wanted to try and find…' She trailed off, noticing the dirty red colouring of her brother's hands as he returned her embrace. 'Bobby. Is that blood?'

'What…?' was all that Bobby could manage.

'On your hands.' Sheila grabbed his hand to inspect it. She gave it a quick sniff. 'It _is_. Why… why do you have blood on your hands?'

Bobby faltered for a moment before speaking in the same quiet, trembling tone. 'S'like I always said, Sis. I just won't stand for any guy treating you like dirt…'

Sheila shook her head, slowly. 'Bobby, no…'

'…and if he wants to hurt you he's gonna have to deal with me.'

Sheila pushed his hand away in disgust. 'Robert O'Brien. How dare you?'

'I just wanted to…'

'How could you do that? In _my_ name?' she stumbled away from him. 'I feel sick.'

'Sheila, I'm sorry…'

Sheila turned and tried to run from Bobby, but Presto grabbed her.

'Let me go, Presto…'

'We don't have time for this, Sheila.' Presto's voice had become dangerously flat.

'What?' Sheila blinked tears at him. 'Presto, I have to…'

'No, Sheila. You have to help me.' His hands still gripping Sheila's shoulders, he looked up at the sky. 'We need Diana.'

Sheila's eyes darkened. 'I don't ever wanna talk to that dirty, lying, double crossing…'

'You have to, Sheila. You have to work with her.' Presto softened his gaze, sympathetically. 'This takes precedent over your hurt feelings. I'm sorry.'

'Don't make me do this, Presto.' Sheila sniffed. 'Just give me time…'

'We don't have time.' Presto gasped suddenly, looking across to the west. 'He's awake.'

-x-

Eric was aware only of pain for a good while – pain and constriction. After what seemed like an age he was able to open his eyes. He closed them again quickly, reeling with vertigous nausea. There was nothing to the right of him but a sharp drop. It seemed that he was in a narrow cave in the side of a deep ravine. He turned his eyes to the left and was hit by a sight that turned his stomach even more.

Hank grinned at him – a sharp, wide, joyless smile. 'Pretty good fit, huh?'

'What are you…?' Eric squinted in confusion. 'Why are you wearing my armour?'

'I've decided I like it,' replied Hank, gazing down at the bright chainmail. 'It's shiny.'

'You're crazy…' began Eric, trying to shift himself forward. A wall of agony hit him as he attempted to move his hands, tied together above his head… no… not tied… he craned his head up to see his hands and screamed. His palms were pinned together and nailed to the wall of the cave by a single, thick crossbow bolt.

'Oh yeah,' added Hank conversationally, 'your hands. I just figured, last time you were skewered to a wall, the DM came along to rescue you, so maybe he'll show up again if I did the same thing… or at least, a variation on the theme. See, I don't actually want to _kill_ you…' He leaned in to Eric. 'Not yet, anyway. First you're gonna tell me exactly who this new Dungeon Master is. _Then_ I'm gonna kill you.'

Eric snorted a laugh, meeting the deranged Ranger's gaze. 'Well now, that's no incentive for me to tell you, is it?'

'Oh, believe me,' giggled Hank, 'by the end you will consider death quite an incentive indeed.'

'Hank…' Eric warned, 'this isn't you. I mean, I know we have our differences and all…'

'Don't you think I know a thing or two about pain, Montgomery?' Hank continued over Eric, ignoring him completely.

'…in fact,' added Eric, with growing desperation, 'I think I would be safe to say that there hasn't been much love lost between us from the off, but this…? This isn't Hank. Not even the Jackass Hank. This is someone else.'

Hank stepped away from Eric, toying with Big Sally. 'Tell me, Eric, have you ever heard of Saint Sebastian…?'

'That's… that's Santa, right?' guessed Eric.

'No, Eric.' Hank aimed the crossbow at Eric's left thigh and fired.

-x-

Fire. Fire! So much fire and blood and pain… and the pain of others blotted out his own. His own pain becoming unrecognisable until the shrieking of his soul was just as gratifying a sound as the screams of his victims. And then with fear comes control, and with control comes the lust for more and more… Power became a greater goal than blood and fire. And always there was the glorious voice of the Nameless One, forever within him, guiding him, whispering in his ear…

Hank blinked himself out of his daydream. Eric had passed out again. He had made sure not to hit any main arteries of vital organs with the five bolts that were now sticking out of Eric's body, but that damn coward kept on slipping in and out of consciousness anyway.

'Hey. Hey!'

Hank struck the other young man in the face. After a couple of slaps, Eric blearily opened his eyes.

'Are you gonna tell me yet, Eric?'

Eric just gazed through him.

'C'mon,' goaded Hank, 'what's a little secret between friends?'

Eric murmured something illegible.

'Say what?'

'I said,' croaked Eric, slightly louder, 'we were never friends.'

Hank couldn't help but laugh a little at that.

'But, you wanna know something?' continued Eric, 'despite that, I would have trusted Hank with the name of who rescued me from Kosar. You wouldn't have needed all this, I'd have told him straight up.'

'So what's the problem? Tell me!'

'I _said_,' Eric hissed, 'I'd'a told _Hank_. And you're not him. Hank's dead. Died years ago. I don't know who the fuck _you_ are.'

Hank grinned. 'Oh, that's it. Stickin' stuff in you's not working. I think I'm gonna start cuttin' stuff off you instead.'

He drew Eric's sword. The moment he did he was hit by a heavy, powerful force, rushing in from the entrance of the cave. He ducked and rolled, and somehow managed to find his feet almost instantly. He span around towards his attacker, the sword still raised, but the black shape shrank back. From behind him, he could hear Eric breathlessly pleading for the interloper to get out as fast as possible.

'Well,' Hank grinned, 'is it a bird? Is it a plane?' He cocked his head, lashing a hand out at the dark shape. 'Or is it just some pushy Black Bitch who can't keep her tits out of her best friend's guy's face?' His hand received a sharp peck, but he managed to grab the swan's slender neck and pin it against the wall of the cave.

'What's up, Gorgeous?' He asked the swan, 'back for an action replay, huh?'

'Get outta here, Deeds, he's crazy…'

The swan just hissed at Hank.

'Back for another fuck?' Hank continued, 'Think Eric'll like that?'

'No!' From behind Hank, Eric found a reserve of energy and wriggled painfully against the crossbow bolt through his hands. 'Fuck you! Get the Hell out of here, Diana…'

'Don't worry about keeping the feathers,' Hank added, 'it doesn't bother me…'

'Stop.'

The voice was calm and flat and, strangely, did cause Hank to feel compelled to stop, if only temporarily. His hand still grasping the swan's neck, he turned to look at the young man standing perfectly still in the cave's mouth.

'How did you get here, Presto?'

'No,' replied Presto. 'How did _you_ get here, Hank? And where do you go from here? That's what you really need to ask.'

'Don't you dare,' Hank seethed. 'I can't go back now, now you all know what I did, how can I?'

'What you did was idiotic,' Presto replied, 'and hurtful and weak and selfish. But it wasn't evil. You don't want to succumb to evil. You don't want to become that person.'

Hank squeezed the swan's neck a little tighter. 'Don't act like I haven't already stepped over the edge, Presto.'

'You haven't. Your feet are still on the ground. Stop this. Come back to us.'

'I can't stop,' Hank breathed. 'What about you, Presto? What are _you_ gonna do to stop it?'

'He doesn't have to,' replied a female voice by his ear. 'Cause, if _you_ don't end this right this moment, Hank… I will.'

Hank felt something cold and sharp press against his throat. He swallowed, frowning into the air in front of himself. There was the faintest whisper of shifting fabric, and Sheila dissolved into view, her right hand unwaveringly holding her dagger to his neck.

'Sheila. What…? What are you…?'

'I flew in with Diana,' Sheila replied in a tight voice. 'Now, her and Eric might not exactly be on top of my Christmas card list right now, but you'd better not think for a second that I'd let you carry on like this. Because then…' Sheila wavered for the slightest moment, before steeling herself yet again. 'Because then, you wouldn't be Hank any more.'

'It's too late, Sheila…' cried Eric from behind her.

'No,' she answered, 'it's not.'

Hank faltered, loosening his grip on Diana's throat. 'After all this… you still believe in me?'

'I believe…' Sheila shrugged. 'I believe you're a jerk. But you think you're beyond redemption, and I know you're not.'

'No?' His hand loosened a little more.

'No. Because that would make you even worse than Venger.' Sheila still didn't move, didn't drop her weapon. 'And I'd have to kill you before letting that happen.'

'Worse than Venger?' Hank felt Diana slither out of his grasp to collapse on the cave's floor, but he barely noticed. Something was coming. A voice in his mind, a face behind his eyelids… something had come to call for him.

_Something was coming. A voice in his mind, a face behind his eyelids… something was calling. Calling. Oh God. The agony…_

'Presto…?'

Eric's voice… the cave… in friends in danger… it all whirled away from him. Everything was spinning, spinning so fast. And the noise! And the light! And the _pain_! All of a sudden, all of his many senses, all of his many sights, were filled with bright, screeching static. It was chaos. It was Evil. It was Him. He was calling. He was calling, He was calling! But He wasn't calling Presto.

'Worse than Venger?' repeated Hank, again. 'Even worse than Venger.'

'I just can't let that happen,' Sheila told him, her knife still raised. 'Because I love you.'

'You love me,' whispered Hank. 'You still love me.'

'Until the day I die.'

Hank took a deep breath in, then out. He reached out, very gently, and laid a hand on her shoulder. 'I love you,' he told her.

_The pain! The pain! Blinding, burning… His voice was so clear now, so loud, so loud…_

Sheila sniffed, and allowed the dagger to fall by her side. 'Hank, she began, 'I…'

In on firm, fluid movement, Hank used the hand on her shoulder to throw her against the cave wall. Her head hit the stone hard, and when he pulled her off it she left a stain of blood spattered against it.

_Blood, and screaming… they're screaming… they're bleeding… they're dying. He's going to kill them. He's gong to kill them all…_

'I love you, he repeated. He threw her again so that she fell flat upon the floor. He felt Diana's hand grab his boot as he walked towards the prone Thief, but he kicked it away. He reached down and picked Sheila up yet again. He couldn't even hear the voices screaming at him to stop any more. All he could hear was that mantra. Even worse than Venger. Even worse than Venger.

'I love you,' he told the blood smeared Thief once more.

And with that he hauled her up in his arms, and stepped out of the cave, and into thin air.


	5. Chapter 5

THE AWFUL TRUTH

-x-

Five

-x-

In a clearing in a swamp, by Gudrun's Cave, sat the last Unicorn in the Realm. She didn't breathe a word to the young Barbarian at her side. Even if she were intending to, she wouldn't have had the chance. He muttered to himself continuously as he tried to wipe the blood from his hands.

'All screwed up… it's all screwed up… What have I done? Why aren't they back yet? What have I done?'

Uni blinked, slowly. As despairing as Bobby's ramblings were, they were better at least than the silence of the freezing pre-dawn as they waited.

'God knows what ever made you want to hang out with us humans,' continued Bobby. 'We're fuck-ups, I'm tellin' ya. Each and every one of our stinking, lousy race…'

Waiting for what, Uni mused to herself as she listened, she had no idea. Perhaps Presto would be returning any minute now with a victorious smile, with Eric and the women unharmed, with Hank back to the old Hank she had known as a foal. Uni couldn't help but admit that this was extremely wishful thinking. If she were being honest with herself, she wouldn't be all that surprised if none of them came back at all. She certainly didn't believe, in her heart of hearts, that they would remain a group of seven.

The Seven.

There had been so many stories about The Seven. And now it was over.

Bobby looked up, squinting into the distance.

'There it is again,' he said, 'that crying. Do you hear it, Uni?'

Uni couldn't hear any voice but Bobby's. And, even if she could, she wasn't going to tell the Barbarian.

Bobby bit his lip. 'Why aren't they back yet? God, I hope Sheila's OK.'

She rested her head down on her hooves and said nothing.

-x-

They did not fall. No. He couldn't fall. He was being lifted. He didn't put his feet on the ground like a mortal. He saw Sheila's blood reddened face blink up at him, groggily.

'Hank…?'

'No,' Hank replied, tersely. 'Not any more.'

'Why, Hank? Why do you keep hurting me?'

'Because I love you. And I break the things I love.'

'You don't have to…' Sheila broke off, her eyes widening at the source of the orange light that beat down on her face. 'Oh God. What are those…? What…?' She looked down and finally saw the absence of ground, the great black void opening up beneath her. She screamed, clawing at the arms that encircled her.

'I _do_ have to, Sheila. I do.'

Sheila shook her head, terrified. 'What's _happening_ to you, Hank?'

'Like you said,' Hank told her, calmly. 'I'm going to be even worse. Even worse than Venger.'

'Is that what you truly wish for, Ranger?'

Hank snarled. 'Speak of the Devil…'

A patch of night flapped its wings a little and shifted into focus.

'How long have you been here?' Hank continued.

Venger gave a sad little smile. 'For too long. For an exhausting expense of time I have been Venger.'

'That's not what I meant…'

'He is calling you,' continued Venger. 'Calling you as He called me. He gives you wings. He lets you experience what it is to soar above the others. They all look so small from up here, do they not?'

'And He'll be taking those wings of yours as soon as He sees you again,' growled Hank. 'You barely deserved them back when you served Him, and now…'

'What is He asking of you?' Interrupted Venger. 'To seal your devotion to Him. He always demands a sacrifice.'

'What do you think?' Hank snapped.

'Hank?' Sheila struggled again. 'Hank, please, no…'

'He demands you destroy what you love.' Venger blinked, strangely. 'How ironic,' he added, without a trace of humour.

'How is that ironic?'

'When you were younger,' Venger replied, 'when I was Lord of great swathes of the Realm, and you were a slip of a boy, sleeping in ditches and foraging for puddle water… I would look at you, and every single time, I could not help but feel… feel envious.'

'What?' Sheila asked, tightly.

'I felt envy,' repeated Venger, 'for you had love, and I had not. You embraced it, while I had tossed it aside.' He shook his head. 'Do not become like me - bitter and alone, filling an unnaturally long life with pain and power for want of anything warmer.'

'What do you know?' Hank spat. 'What do you know about sacrifice? What do you know about suffering?' He loosened his hold on Sheila. She slipped a little but still held on to his arm, desperately.

Venger met eyes with Hank, seriously. 'He asked for my mother.'

Hank frowned, and didn't notice that he'd pulled Sheila tight to himself again. 'You killed your mother? Your own mother?'

'I flew her to a great height,' Venger told him, flatly, 'and dropped her. But I could see in her eyes, I had already killed her inside with my cruelty. Is that what you see in your Thief's eyes?'

Hank blinked at Sheila. She was hurt, yes, devastated, he could see that. And terrified, too. But he could still see in those eyes… trust. The trust she'd always had. Why did she _still_ trust him? How could she be so stupid? He turned to Venger again.

'You want me to spare her so badly? Well then, how's about _you_ tell me who the new DM is?'

'You will not kill her, Ranger,' Venger replied. 'You are not like me.'

'I'm _worse_ than you!' Hank cried, enraged. 'I'll do it!'

'No you won't, Hank.' Sheila whispered. 'I know you won't.'

Hank shook her. 'I've let you down every step of the way, Sheila. I've hurt you every step of the way. At what point are you gonna get it into your head that I can't be trusted?'

'Probably when it hits the ground.' Sheila's voice was trembling over her false bravado, and yet Hank knew that she still meant what she said.

'If you kill her,' Venger warned, 'if you give Him that sacrifice, you will seal your fate forever. Look, Ranger. Look at what that fate has in store for you. Look at me. The route you are taking does not lead to glory. It leads to solitude and misery.'

'You're no more alone or miserable than I am right now,' Hank replied.

Venger paused for a second. 'At the Dragon's Graveyard, all that time ago… why did you not kill me?'

'I…' Hank stalled, suddenly caught up in that memory – the itching bolt in his fingers, his breath caught in the back of his throat, his nemesis prone before him. 'You… you looked… pathetic.' Hank frowned to himself. 'You _were_ pathetic. I didn't kill you because I found myself pitying you.' He ran that thought over in his mind. 'I did. I pitied you. I _pitied_ you!'

The whirlwind, the bright light, the voice were all fighting to intrude upon the memory and push it from his mind, but it was no use. He had pitied Venger. He had seen a self-made monster, utterly alone and helpless in the face of the combined powers of Hank's group. His little group. Held together by more than magic – held together by love and friendship. How could he have become so wretched? How could he possibly turn himself into that sort of creature – something that he had once felt so sorry for?

'You're right,' he said, softly. 'You're right. This ends. Right now.'

He could hear the voice fade, cursing him all the while, and the bright, fiery glow from behind him began to flicker and diminish. There was no time. His mind was made up. He was just going to live with the consequences.

Or not live, as the fact of the matter seemed to be.

He managed to push Sheila into Venger's grasp, but even if he intended to take his former enemy's outstretched hand, he wouldn't have had the opportunity. The light behind him completely shrank away into nothing, leaving only the inky blue sky and an immense drop beneath his feet. He felt his stomach give way as gravity kicked in. Sheila's scream disappeared above him as the sound of rushing air exerted itself about his ears. The sensation of falling seemed to last forever, before a sharp pain pinched at his waist and he found himself falling sideways instead of down. He looked across to his side in a daze and saw the giant swan that had caught Eric's armour – and some of his skin with it – in her beak. Diana seemed in a bad way, however. She looked weak from his attack on her only minutes before, and it occurred that swans probably weren't engineered to carry the weight of grown men from their beaks at the very moment that she faltered, fell into a dive and lost her grip on him. She fell with him this time, trying to manoeuvre herself so that he could land on her back, but all she succeeded in doing was to clip him with the side of her wing, breaking his fall slightly but sending him into a spin along with it. A shallow river came up fast to meet him – too fast for the injured swan to catch him – and he landed on the rocky river bed with a definite crunch.

He wasn't aware of the pain at first, or the cold of the river, but was hit by a surge of panic as he tried to take a gasping breath in and was greeted with a windpipe full of water. He felt two hands around his collar, pulling him up to the surface. It wasn't until he coughed and spluttered on the river's surface, spitting out muddy water, that the pain hit him.

'God Dammit!' He put a hand up to the side of his head that he had fallen on and found a hot, sticky mush where he supposed his face was meant to be.

'Hank?' Diana waded around to face him. She almost looked concerned. 'I saw you falling, I tried to catch you, but…'

'You broke it enough,' Hank replied, quietly. 'If it wasn't for you and this foot or so of water, I'd be toast… for what that's worth… God… How bad is my face – seriously?'

'You could probably do with some stitches, and your eye's looking kinda scary.' Diana sighed. 'Let's get outta the river and back to Presto… provided _he's_ come to.'

'What?' Hank asked, incredulously.

'You didn't notice? Something was playing with his magic while you were goin' all crazy-assed and flame winged. He, um…' Diana frowned. 'He said somethin' about No-Name. Somethin' about using you as a host body for that Black Knight guy.' She paused. 'Is that what happened? Because I left my boyfriend skewered to a rock, with one of our gang clutching his head and writhing on the floor, and another hovering in Venger's arms hundreds of feet up in the air to save your hide, on the off chance that it wasn't you doing that shit back there, that there's still something about Hank Van Walwyck that can possibly be redeemed.'

Hank looked down. 'It was my hatred that fuelled it. My deepest, darkest destructive urges. My antagonism towards Eric, my… my attraction towards you…'

Diana folded her arms. 'Well, at least you're admitting to it now. And you certainly sound apologetic enough…'

'Oh God,' sighed Hank, 'I am. I am so, so very sorry…'

'…which is a step in the right direction, I suppose.' Diana started pulling herself out of the dark river. 'But what about Sheila? What did she ever do to you to deserve what you did?'

Hank looked up at Diana. 'She loved me. And I think I started to hate myself so much that I actually resented anyone loving me. Because what the fuck was there for her to love?'

'You got that right.' Diana paused. 'So, this little Crazy Throttley Shooty Period of yours is over, right?'

Hank nodded. 'Right. I saw where I was headed. I'd have rather died. Hence the freefall.'

'_Was_ it No-Name? Behind it all?'

'Yes,' Hank replied, softly.

'So then you're coming back.'

'It's not that easy.' Hank looked down at the black water around his waist. 'Just saying "Oh, the Devil made me do it"… that's kinda over simplifying things. Cause… cause when it comes down to it, really… that guy's been guiding my hand a Hell of a lot longer than tonight. And I've let him. I've allowed him to guide me in hurting Sheila so many times before, is it really any different to slam her head against a rock? It's not just a one-night thing with me. I'm not just gonna see the light and be all better. It's too ingrained. And while it's ingrained in me, well…' He shook his head, miserably. 'I can't be trusted. I can't be trusted with Sheila, or you, or Eric… I certainly can't be trusted with this fight against Furnus.'

'So you're leaving.' Diana shivered a little in the cold pre dawn air. 'You're running away.'

Hank held his arms out at his sides. 'What good am I to you guys like this? What good am I to anyone? I'm just dragging you all back.'

'And how do you propose to help our cause by sneaking off?'

'I'll… I'll find people. People who are willing and able to help us.'

'You're gonna recruit an army?'

Hank shrugged as he started to wade towards the opposite riverbank to Diana. 'Somethin' like that. Look, I just can't… I can't face those guys right now.'

'Well, ya don't have much of a face to do that with right now at any rate…'

'I mean it, Diana.'

Diana pursed her lips. 'Fine. Fuck off. Take the coward's way out.'

'Y'know, sometimes the bravest solution just isn't the _right_ solution. I'm cool with looking like a chicken tonight if it's gonna be the best thing for us in the long run. This is just something I gotta do by myself.' He dragged himself onto the bank.

'Fine.' Diana got to her feet. 'But I'm tellin' you now… you'd better come back as our Hank, or don't bother coming back at all.'

Hank checked the weapons on his back. Somehow, miraculously, the fire that had unfurled wings from his shoulder blades had managed not to singe either his magic Bow or Big Sally.

'Don't worry.' He turned to go. 'See you again someday, I hope.'

'Count on it, asshole. You got a lot of making up to do.'

He shot her a last look over his shoulder. 'Look after Sheila, huh?'

'Not sure she'll let me. Or Eric. Or Bob right now, for that matter.'

'Well… make sure Presto looks after her, then.'

Diana chewed her lip for a moment, watching him walk away from the riverbank and into the darkness.

'Wait,' she called, after a moment.

But he was gone.

-x-

Sheila hung in the air, far above any branches where any birds might possibly be starting their early morning twittering. The only sounds were her own breaths, and Venger's, and the slow, steady flap of his heavy wings as they beat the sky to maintain their position. In the quiet, she noted that the three sounds had fallen into a synchrony, bringing a ponderous rhythm to the motionless night. Outside, all was calm. Inside, she was racing.

'He is alive,' Venger announced to her after what felt like an age. 'The Acrobat must have caught him, or something broke his fall. He is alive.'

The news should have filled Sheila entirely with pure relief. Instead she found her head buzzing with questions. 'And he's still… Hank?'

'He turned He Whose Name We Do Not Speak away,' Venger replied. 'This time. Although I doubt that He will hold open the offer of immortality to your Ranger again.'

_But he's not my Ranger_, she thought, _is he? Is he…?_

'So that thing… that thing with the wings,' she asked, 'that won't happen again?'

'I cannot see the future,' Venger told her. He paused again. 'The Wizard is taking the Cavalier to Gudrun's cave, to see his wounds. I shall take you there now. He should attend to you, as well.

Sheila brushed her fingers over the split skin on her cheekbone, unsticking the blood-gummed hair from the wound. 'It's not as bad as it looks. He should look after Eric first.'

Venger cleared his throat, a little awkwardly. 'I will take you to Gudrun's cave now anyway. If you wish to wait, then so be it.'

'No.' Sheila was a little alarmed by the defiance of her tone. If she could have told her younger self that she would ever give a direct order to Venger, she'd have just laughed at herself. And if she'd have told her teenaged self that Venger would have responded to her demand with a calm 'You wish to be taken elsewhere?' well… Sheila wasn't sure what her reaction would have been.

'I want…' she set her face. 'I need to be by myself for a while.'

'You have had many revelations,' Venger agreed. 'You will have much to contemplate.'

'And more to ask,' Sheila replied. 'All the things I found out tonight… they're not answers. They're just showing up so many new questions.'

'I cannot give you any answers,' Venger told her, a little hurriedly.

'Well, I wasn't gonna ask _you_ for any,' Sheila told him. 'Like I said, I just gotta be alone for an hour or two.' She nodded at a clearing in the swamp as they descended. 'You can set me down there.'

Sheila wasn't sure whether she'd imagined it, but she was almost certain for a moment that she'd heard Venger sigh with relief as he headed towards the clearing.

-x-

Presto wiped his glasses with his sleeve, and focussed. Really focussed. Everyone was alive, and nobody was about to torture or try to kill anybody else in the short term. At that particular point in time, that was good enough for him. Echoes of The Evil One still whirled around in his throbbing head. He had been so close, so close to finding them out. His closeness to Hank above the ravine had filled Presto's mind with bright, agonising electricity. He still felt as though his brain was made of hot coal. Concentrating on the task in font of his two myopic eyes was only just bearable. He had no idea whether widening his scope would incapacitate him again, temporarily or worse. No, he had plenty to contend with right here, thank you very much. Not that Bobby seemed to notice.

'What do you suppose is goin' on?' Bobby fretted a little with his short hair before resuming his worried pacing of Gudrun's Cave. 'Think they're OK?'

'They're safe,' Presto muttered, steadying his pliers.

'Yes,' Bobby retorted, 'but are they _OK_?'

'That's up to them, I suppose.'

'…sup t'them,' echoed a drug addled drawl from the cave's floor.

Bobby halted suddenly, gazing out into the swamp. 'Hear that?'

Presto listened, using just his ears for once. 'Is that Diana?'

Bobby shook his head, straining to hear. 'Not that. Crying. D'you hear the crying?'

Presto shared a concerned little glance with the resting Unicorn.

'…m'not cryin'…' continued the slur from the floor. 'M'bein' verr verr brave.'

Presto glanced down at Eric on the floor. 'I haven't even started pulling out the arrows yet. How're those painkillers kickin' in for you?'

'Eeeeee,' smiled Eric, beatifically, taking another suck on the magically produced gas mask. 'I love your Hat. Can yrr Hat give me Morph'n everrrday?'

'No.' Presto pushed his glasses up his nose. 'Hold still.'

Presto clamped the pliers around the arrow protruding from Eric's upper thigh And steeled himself to give it a good, hard tug out of the Cavalier's body, but before he had chance he was disturbed by Diana's loud entrance into the cave.

'Guys?' She hurried in, rubbing her arms. 'Bad news.'

Presto wiped his palms on his robe. '_More_?'

'Hank's gone,' Diana explained.

'What?' gasped Bobby. 'He's… he's…'

'He left,' Diana told them, quietly. 'He didn't trust himself around us any more. He's gone away to… to find his own path, or… or somethin'…'

'And you didn't try to stop him?' Bobby blurted, angrily.

'No, Bob, I didn't.' Diana turned angrily to answer Bobby's outburst, but the look in his eyes stopped her. It was an expression of such devastation – a young boy that had lost his hero. She softened her tone a she tried to explain. 'What was I supposed to do? It's his choice. He didn't feel it was good for any of us for him to stay right now, and, I gotta say, I agreed with him.'

'J'ya kiss him g'bye?' slurred Eric, before bursting into a fit of giggles.

'No I did not.' She folded her arms. 'What the Hell are you On, anyway?'

'I got the Hat to give him some painkillers,' Presto explained. He picked up a large jar of pills and shook it. 'I remembered Morphine was his favourite…'

'Morphine!' Eric agreed, merrily.

'And,' added Presto, 'now I'm not a medical man, but I heard you can take Gas and Air with pretty much anything, so I got him that as a little extra bonus. Figured he deserved a treat after what he's been through tonight.'

Eric took another suck on the mask. 'Maaaan, that's good shit.' He waved the mask at Diana. 'Care for a snifter?'

Presto leaned in to Eric, conspiratorially. 'You're still mad at Diana, Dude.'

'Oh. Oh yeah.' Eric scowled, cradling the gas mask covetously. 'Fuck you, Bitch!'

'Thanks, Presto.'

'Sorry, Diana. He asked me to remind him if the drugs made him start being nice to you.'

'Why are you guys all joking around like nothing's happened?' Snapped Bobby, furiously. 'Hank's gone. Left. Hank. Our leader. Our _friend_! Don't any of you care?' He pushed his fingers through his hair again, despairingly. 'This is all my fault.'

'No, Bob.' Presto clamped the pliers around the arrow again. 'We all have our own paths to tread. Hank had good reasons for going his own way.'

Bobby stepped back a little, watching the others. Yeah. Hank had had a good reason for deciding to go it alone. He'd lost their trust, as well as his own trust in himself.

Presto gave the arrow a yank, drawing it out of Eric's leg. In spite of the painkillers, Eric gave a loud yowl of agony as a gush of blood fountained out of the wound. Bobby looked down at the blood on his own hands – Hank's blood. He was no better himself. He was dangerous. He kept seeing flashes of himself beating the one person he'd ever truly looked up to, seeing how that blood had gotten on his hands and boots. It made him want to throw up. And then there had been the look on Sheila's face. Oh God, Sheila… He wasn't Sheila's kid brother any more. He was a brute. A monster. He wasn't to be trusted.

Presto pulled out another arrow, accompanied by another cry and another spurt of blood. Diana's attention was entirely on Eric, her face set to an expression of guilty concern. Even Uni had turned her eyes from Barbarian to Cavalier.

He wasn't to be trusted any more, and everybody knew it. But he could make it right. If Hank could go away and make things right, well then so could he. He turned his face away from the cave, towards the gradually lightening sky above the swamp. There was that crying again – the lost little kid. Maybe… if he could find that kid and help it… Yes. He was hit with the overwhelming urge that that was It. That was what he had to do to make things better.

Eric screamed again. Bobby used the noise to slip out of the cave unheard, and hurried away into the dawn.

-x-

Alone. She was alone. She sat down on a fallen tree trunk and arched her back, lifting her face up to the dark blue, sunless sky. There was a time that this kind of loneliness, this kind of still silence, would have frightened her. But that was a long time ago now.

She had requested… no… _demanded_ solitude under the pretence of needing time to think. Only, now that she was here and alone she had realised that all her thinking had already been done. Her mind was already made up. Little secrets, little surprises – everybody had them, it seemed, everybody but her. The secrets were no good. The secrets had almost killed them all that night. There was only one thing for it – the secrets had to go. All of them.

She reached a hand up to her chest, so that her fingers brushed the pink fabric over her heart. The fingers, quick Thief fingers, didn't stop, and dipped into the neck of her dress, pulling out a sphere – hastily wrapped in a scrap of pink material that nobody seemed to have noticed had been ripped from her sleeve – from its soft, warm hiding place.

'Thank God for well fitting bras,' she murmured almost imperceivably as she unwrapped the ping-pong ball sized object.

She frowned at it.

'I can't say I particularly like you,' she told it, 'but I really don't see how you can hurt me any more than you already have. Presto might be scared of you - Venger, even, but I'm not.' She paused. 'So, tell me. Are there any more secrets left to tell about the seven of us?'

The sphere glowed, ever so slightly. Sheila didn't flinch, but looked it directly in its pearlescent eye.

'Show me. I'm not afraid. Show me everything.'


	6. Chapter 6

THE AWFUL TRUTH

-x-

Six

-x-

Presto rubbed his nose, leaving a smudge of blood across it.

'Keep still,' he ordered his patient. 'This is the really tricky part. It's managed to splinter in there.'

Eric whimpered a little as Diana held his wrist down.

'You're doin' great,' Diana murmured. 'Don't be scared, the worst of it's over now.' Frowning, Presto carefully closed the pliers around the arrow that was still lodged in Eric's left hand.

Eric sucked through his teeth, bracing himself for the pain. 'Not scared,' he hissed, 'cold. Don't suppose Hank gave my armour back before he wandered off into the blue yonder…?'

'Sorry,' Diana replied. 'No.'

'Here it comes,' Presto warned.

Eric closed his eyes, then opened them again and gazed at Diana with an afterthought. 'Sword…?'

'That too,' came the apologetic reply.

Presto pulled, and Eric screamed. He took another long, hard suck on the gas mask, stamping one foot hard against the ground, and steadied his breath.

'That son of a bitch,' he continued.

'He left your Shield,' replied Presto, calmly, 'and your cape. You like your cape.'

'I do like my cape.'

'Leave the rest of your outfit to the Hat,' Presto continued. 'We won't make you wander around in your underwear, don't worry. I'm afraid that didn't get all of it. I'm gonna have to tweeze some splinters out of there or it could go septic.'

Eric winced again. 'I'm still cold,' he complained.

Diana got to her feet. 'I'll get your cape. Bobby, how's about you see if you can find some firew…'

Diana turned around and scanned the cave. 'Where's Bob?'

Presto widened his perception momentarily. He blinked. 'He's gone.'

He swallowed quickly as the Unicorn sprang to her feet in a panic. He avoided the gazes of Diana and Uni, and concentrated hard on the task in front of himself again.

'Gone?' Diana echoed. 'Where? When'll he be back?'

'I don't know,' Presto replied, gently. 'That's up to him.'

'You mean he's _gone_ gone?' panicked Diana, 'like Hank? _Both of them?_ I lost them both? In one _night_?' She pushed her hands across her scalp. 'Oh God, she's gonna _kill_ me!'

'It wasn't your fault any more than it was anybody else's.' Presto pulled the first thin splinter out of Eric's hand. 'His path just separates from ours for a while.'

'What are you talking about?' Diana yelled, 'this isn't like Hank, Bobby's just a kid…' she stared at Presto. 'Are you tellin' me you knew about this, Presto? You _let_ him go?'

'No, Diana. I just…'

'But you just said…'

'Haven't you worked it out yet, Diana?'

Sheila's voice was flat and calm. _Too _calm. Diana span round to face her, swallowing hard. The Thief wasn't cloaked. Still, she'd managed to sneak up on the cave's entrance quietly, unnoticed. She offered the Acrobat a curt, cold smile.

'Sheila,' Diana breathed. 'I am… I'm just so… I really screwed up, didn't I?'

Sheila nodded in response.

'I bet all you want to do right now is to slap me in the face…'

'Funnily enough,' Sheila replied, 'I don't. Pretty much everyone else tonight's decided to try to solve this problem with violence, and it hasn't exactly done anyone any good.' She vaguely indicated her battered face. 'Least of all me.'

Diana shook her head sadly. 'What can I do to even start making this up to you?'

Sheila stared at her. 'I've come to a decision. We've done things the stupid way, now we're gonna start doing things my way.' She glanced across at the others, all of whom had stopped what they were doing and were watching her, warily. 'We're gonna stop something like this ever happening again,' she continued, 'and do you know how we're going to do that?'

'Compulsory chastity belts for all?' asked Eric, quietly.

'We're gonna learn to be honest with each other,' Sheila told him. 'No more secrets, no more lies.' She looked at Presto again.

'Sheila…?' Presto asked, cautiously.

'Listen, uh…' Diana cast her eyes down at the floor of the cave. 'First thing you aughtta know is…'

'Hank and Bobby have gone. Yes. I know.' Sheila met Diana's surprised gaze. 'But Presto's right. They need to work some things out by themselves. They need space.' She paused. 'Heaven knows _I_ could do with some space from them right now as well. They'll be OK.'

'But how do you know…?'

'Because I know. And because Presto says they will.'

'What if Presto's wrong?'

'Presto can't be wrong.' She stared levelly at the Wizard. He shook his head pleadingly, anticipating her next sentence, begging her not to say it in the pause before she went ahead and said it anyway.

'He's the Dungeon Master.'

'What?!?' Cried the Acrobat.

'What?' Echoed Eric.

Sheila narrowed her eyes. 'Oh, stop acting so surprised, Eric. Like you haven't known for days now.'

'Eric?' Diana asked. 'Is… is that true? You knew?'

Presto got to his feet, sadly. 'Sheila,' he sighed. 'Who told you this?'

'Don't deny that it's true, Presto.'

Presto shook his head. 'I don't. I can't.'

'Oh my God…' breathed Diana, 'all this time…'

'Who told you?' repeated Presto. 'Did Venger tell you?'

'_Venger knows?_' Diana interrupted. 'Venger knew about you and I didn't?'

Sheila cast a sideways glance to the other girl. 'Sucks being left out of the loop, doesn't it?'

'Touché,' muttered Diana.

'Venger didn't tell me,' Sheila told Presto. She held her fist out towards him and opened it. A muddy pearl glinted in her palm.

'How did you…?' Presto began.

'What part of "The Thievingest Darn Thief You Ever Did See" do you guys have such difficulty understanding?'

Presto used his sleeve to pick The Truth out of Sheila's hand. 'Why did you do it, Sheila?'

'Because I had to know. Because I figured I _deserved_ to know.'

'But it's so dangerous…'

'Only in the wrong hands.'

'Did…' Presto frowned down, doing its best to keep his gaze out of the centre of the pearl. 'Did it show you anything else?'

'It showed me everything.'

Presto glanced up at her, nervously licking his lips. 'Everything?'

Sheila blinked, very slowly. 'I think,' she said after a pause, 'the two of us need to talk.'

'Agreed,' Presto replied. He nodded towards Diana. 'Could you look after Eric for a bit, Diana?'

'Look after him? I'm gonna kick his ass!' Diana made an angry approach towards the still splintered Cavalier. 'How could you not tell me our _friend_ was the new DM, Eric?'

'You had sex with Hank!'

'Fair enough. Call it even?

Eric gaped. 'I can't believe what I'm hearing! Can you believe this, you guys?'

'You're just going to have to sort this out yourselves,' Presto told them. 'Me and Sheila really need to…'

'No!' Eric demanded. 'No way, don't leave me here alone with her…'

'Oh,' replied Sheila, 'you won't be alone. You have Uni.'

Uni looked up suspiciously at Sheila's dangerously treacle-sweet use of her name.

'Why don't you tell Eric and Diana what you think, Uni?' Sheila added.

'Huh?' Eric and Diana cast Sheila identical expressions of confusion.

'Oh,' said Sheila with a sweet smile, 'Did I not mention it? Uni can talk.'

'Oh, for fuck's sake!' blurted the unicorn.

Presto was almost certain that he heard a little giggle escape Sheila's lips as they departed the cave to the sounds of Eric and Diana's surprised screams.

'That was pretty mean, Sheila,' he muttered.

'I guessed I was owed one.' Sheila folded her arms and leaned her back against the cave's wall, gazing up at the sky through the treetops. 'Look at that. Here come the suns.'

'Yeah,' sighed Presto, rubbing his eyes in the new light. 'Tough night, huh?'

'Tough night,' Sheila agreed.

'First things first,' Presto told her. He held The Truth out, still in his sleeve, and concentrated. Slowly, the pearl began to crack and peel, as though it were covered in a cheap varnish. He held out his Hat to catch the falling flakes until the whole thing turned into a brittle ball of dust and crumbled away in his hand. 'Ashes to ashes,' he told the remnants as he shook them into the Hat, 'Magical gizmo to magical gizmo.'

'Amen,' responded Sheila. 'Good riddance.'

There was a very long pause.

'Are…' Presto winced at the stupidity of his question. 'Are you OK?'

'I'm still here,' Sheila replied, 'and I guess what can't kill me can only make me stronger.'

'You don't _have_ to find an upside to every situation, Sheila.'

'Yes I do. Because if I don't look at the positives in this situation… well, what am I left with?' She kicked at the mud a little. 'I saw the truth tonight. I stopped being deluded. It hurt but… I guess in the long run it's better. Diana wanted to tell me, you know. Right from after it happened. And keeping it secret was making her miserable. I guess that's something. So she'll be better off with it out, it'll be good for her heart. As much as I hate to admit it right now I guess I'll end up forgiving her. I _am_ Sheila, after all.'

'You're… you're good like that…' stuttered Presto.

'I know I am. I wonder if Eric'll be so forgiving.'

'He already has,' Presto replied quietly, 'inside. I imagine it'll take him good and long enough to admit to it, though. And you just gave them a new common source of outrage in Uni…' Presto trailed off, blinking. 'Are you actually _helping_ them get back together, after everything they put you through?'

'Diana only kept the one secret from me,' Sheila replied, 'and Eric might have kept two, but neither of them were his place to tell. Comparatively from the things I've found out tonight, that makes them saints. Besides, they deserve each other. For better or worse…'

'You're mad at Bob and Hank for walking out, aren't you?'

'And the rest.' Sheila sighed. 'I meant what I said earlier, though. I really could do with some cooling off time from them both. Hank… I'd rather not even think about Hank right now. But if this is what it takes to bring him back on track, well… And Bobby… I guess he has a destiny now. Has done for some time. It wasn't what happened tonight that sent him away, was it? He's gone after the voice.' Sheila looked at Presto levelly. He winced. She could see right through him. Right through him! 'He's gone to find the baby. His unborn child.'

'You know about that,' Presto murmured.

'Like I keep saying, I know everything.' Sheila toyed with the mud again. 'I'm gonna be an Aunt. I can't believe you knew I was gonna be an Aunt, and you didn't even tell me! Worst of all, you didn't so much as tell _Bobby_!'

'Please understand, Sheila. I felt it was for the best. Bob's still just a kid…'

'You think he still believes babies are left by the stork in the cabbage patch?' Sheila snapped. 'Presto, he's old enough to get him into that situation, he's old enough to deal with it. Certainly old enough to have been told it had happened. How could you not tell him?'

'You know as well as I do what a danger our allies put themselves in,' Presto replied. 'Remember the dungeon? Remember Kareena and Sir Lawrence and…'

'Of course I remember!'

'Then what do you think could happen to a little baby if it was common knowledge that it was the child of one of The Seven?' Presto looked down. 'I was just trying to protect the poor little thing.'

There was another pause.

'I'm sorry, Sheila,' he told her eventually. 'I'm so sorry. I've just gone from screw up to screw up, haven't I? I've got everything so wrong, and what happens? My friends get hurt, nearly killed… divided.'

Sheila shrugged a little. 'From what I remember of the last time one of my friends was made DM, you pretty much learn how to do this job as you go.'

'It's been weeks, Sheila. Months. It's not that I don't have the powers, I just… I keep messing up. I keep making the wrong call, just like I always used to. I'm not the one who should be making the decisions, I'm not the one who should be leading the way…'

'What other options do you have, Presto? What other options do any of us have?'

_Necromancy…_

Presto shook his head, trying to dislodge the thought. 'I don't know.'

'I mean,' Sheila continued, 'it's not like you're doing a_dreadful_ job…'

'I appreciate your trying to make me feel better, Sheila, but it kinda feels like I'm being damned with faint praise. Fact is, we're weaker now than we've ever been, and Furnus can only get stronger. We've closed down a lot of her portals, but her control is still growing. I need help. I need advice. I need… what do I need?'

Sheila didn't reply, and they stood in silence for another apparent eternity.

'I knew,' she told him at length.

'What?'

'I tried to ignore it, but in my heart of hearts… I knew Hank was being untrue. I didn't realise to what extent, but Heck, he was being unfaithful to every other aspect of his life, I knew he was doing the same to me. And I guess I knew deep down that Diana kept things from me, and that Eric still kept hold of a certain Ericky selfishness, and that my kid brother wasn't still the cheerful little boy I grew up with… even that there was more to Uni than met the eye… but_you_…' Sheila stared at Presto. 'You, Presto! I had no idea. How could you keep a secret like that so buried?'

Presto averted his gaze. 'I didn't tell you guys I was the Dungeon Master for your own good. You were in enough danger already – look what happened to Eric tonight. All that was because Hank worked out he knew who the DM was. That could've been any one of you…'

'That isn't what I'm talking about,' Sheila told him, flatly.

Presto shot her a panicked gaze.

'It told me Everything. Remember?'

'Oh God… Oh Dear God… no…'

'And I've just been spending the last half hour trying to work out whether you _let_ the things that happened to Hank tonight happen because you wanted him out of the way…'

'No way. Sheila, I would never…'

'I know. I know. You're still Presto, and you'd never do that.'

'I know that you still love Hank,' Presto told her, sadly. 'I've accepted it.'

'Yeah,' echoed Sheila. 'So have I.'

'Are…' Presto stalled. 'Are we OK?'

'We will be.' Sheila paused again. 'Would it be too weird for you to ask for a hug?'

Presto found himself breaking into a smile. 'Nah.'

Sheila wrapped both arms around his chest. He squeezed her shoulder in return.

'Look at me,' she told him, proudly, 'I've managed to come back knowing Hank and Bobby were gone and face you, Uni, Eric and Diana and I haven't cried once!'

'I noticed,' Presto replied. 'You're one tough cookie.'

'So. Where do we go from here?'

Presto didn't reply out loud, he just squeezed Sheila a little tighter.

_That's a damn good question_, he replied in his head, _a damn good question._

-x-

SIX MONTHS LATER

-x-

It was dusk. It would have been Twilight, only Presto figured for that there should have been stars, and there weren't any. No, "dusk" was the only word for it. Dusty, musky, misty, murky dusk. He looked down at the small, overgrown mound at his feet. Had it always been so small, he wondered? As if echoing his thoughts, a voice spoke from above his left shoulder.

'I always forget how small he was.'

Presto looked up at Venger, standing quietly behind him.

'Physically speaking, that is,' Venger continued. 'He was a far bigger man than I, magically. And spiritually.'

'Me too,' Presto agreed, gazing back down at the mound. 'Feel free to tell me that's not true, by the way.'

'Correct the Dungeon Master?' A very faint, wistful smile considered playing over Venger's lips. 'I would not dare.' His expression fell back to its default seriousness. 'Besides, if your words were false modesty you would not be resorting to such desperate measures.'

'Do you have any better ideas?' Presto asked him. 'Six months. Six months lying low, looking for… for support, inspiration, resources, guidance. Anything. And what do we have to show for it? The big Zilch-o. Hank and Bobby have both managed to drop off my register… if anything, I'm getting weaker. Maybe The Truth took something from me, maybe it's because Furnus is just getting stronger all the time, I just don't know. But all I can see these days is her firelight, and her army, and the whirlwind behind her… and our defeat. If things carry on the way they are, we're going to lose. We're going to die. And there'll be some portal to Earth that we overlooked that she'll find and then she'll take that over too. Unless… unless we do something drastic.'

'It is breaking the rules.'

'I don't care any more.'

Venger glanced down at Presto. 'Those are not the words of a Dungeon Master.'

'Yeah, well. I'm a pretty crappy Dungeon Master, I think we've established that.' Presto shot Venger another look. 'This is my last resort, OK? My absolute last resort. We have to do this. My mind is made up.'

Venger stared at Presto for another moment, then looked away, unhappily. 'As you wish it, Dungeon Master,' he growled.

Presto took a deep breath and concentrated.

'From the living world we call to you, the dead,' he whispered. 'A child in need cries out to his father. We beg of you, let the father rise up once more. Rise up, rise up for the one thing that binds you tighter than death. Rise, for the love of your son.'

Presto fell silent. Both he and Venger stood by the mound, and watched, and waited.

And watched.

And waited.

And waited.

The dusk deepened into night.

Nothing happened.

After a very long while, Presto spoke. 'It didn't work.'

Venger nodded. 'Good. My father did enough for this world when he was alive. It is not fair to demand his assistance again in death.' He turned to go. 'We shall think of something else. Something better.'

Presto took a step back from the grave, shaking his head. 'You don't get it. That was my last resort. I have no more ideas. That's it.'

He rubbed his eyes as he too turned away from the grave. 'That's it. We're done. Game over, man. Game over.' He walked away, and the dark green of his robe became lost in the shadows of the forest. Nothing stirred about the grave. Somewhere above, a nightingale sang sadly.

Somewhere above, a nightingale sang sadly. The leaves on the trees rustled a little. The night breeze was fittingly solemn and serene. The graveyard was deserted, so nobody heard the odd noises coming from beneath the ground. Nobody felt the earth shift a little, suddenly. Certainly nobody saw the hand punching its way up through the turf. A second joined it, groping for purchase, and after a moment a dirt-covered body hauled itself up onto the surface, coughing for air. The until recently buried man lay prostrate on the ground for a while, his fingers clenching at the pristinely manicured grass beneath him, as though he was worried he'd fall off the face of the Earth if he let go.

'What…' gasped the man, 'what the Hell is going on…? What…?'

He paused, as if listening to something inaudible.

'Oh shit,' he said at last. He pushed himself up to his knees, and found his feet. 'Oh shit, oh shit. OK. Gimme a sec.'

He leaned against the statue that marked the grave he had just crawled from momentarily as he gathered his strength. He looked up at it.

'This mine?' He muttered to himself. 'An angel? Really? Kinda cliché.'

Only the nightingale was there to see him push himself off the statue and begin a desperate, tired stagger away from his vacated grave, and the nightingale, being a nightingale, couldn't read the inscription at the base of the statue. Even if it could, being a nightingale, it probably wouldn't have found any significance in the three words Charles Eric Montgomery, carved at the angel's feet.

'OK,' puffed the exhausted corpse of Charles Montgomery as he hurried away, 'it's OK, I'm coming. Daddy's coming.'

-x-

To be continued in 'Family Reunion'.


End file.
